


Reunions

by my_soliloquy_chamber



Series: Encounters [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, Boys Kissing, Brothels, Bullying, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Frottage, Het, Het and Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Intergluteal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Assault, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_soliloquy_chamber/pseuds/my_soliloquy_chamber
Summary: After the peace treaty prohibiting privateering, Ed Thatch and Edward Kenway try to carve out their reputation as pirates. The men struggle to find the space to be with each other in the face of disapproval and sabotage.***The sexual assault and attempted rape mentioned in the tags is in chapter 4, which can be skipped without missing important plot.***
Relationships: Edward Kenway/Edward Thatch, Edward Kenway/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Encounters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939948
Comments: 44
Kudos: 23





	1. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to Celebration, things will make more sense if you read that first.  
>   
> While Celebration was a story with a clear (to me) arch, in this story I’m not sure where we’re going. Hopefully somewhere fun.  
> But because of this lack of clear arch, this will be less structured. Sometimes there will be a full chapter and sometimes just a small snippet of a scene. I may tell some parts from a different POV.  
> Do let me know if something is contradictory or confusing so I can fix it or ensure to clear it up in later chapters.  
> I haven’t read any of the AC books, so if things in those contradict stuff in here, I guess this is AU  
> 

* * *

  
It was late when the ship arrived, already dark. Ed was sitting on the Old Avery talking to Hornigold when the arriving crew filed up the street from the docks. In the darkness, it was impossible to see which ship had arrived or make out the faces of the men below. It was only when they entered the squares of light cast from the windows they passed that their faces were discernible. Some of the arriving crew climbed the stairs to the tavern, some walked on, to the brothels, or to what other places they spent their time in town.

Ed saw Kenway as he walked past a window. The short glimpse showed a tired, weary man, with a crease between his brows that hadn’t been there before. His steps were slow, and heavy. “Kenway’s back.” Ed gestured with his mug and Ben turned around to scan the street below.

As he turned his steps towards the Old Avery, the light from the tavern illuminated Kenway’s face, and Ben spotted him, calling out. “Kenway! Up here! Come join us!”

The young man froze in his steps in front of the staircase and looked up at them on the balcony above. One of his crew mates gave him a hard shove, and he stumbled away from the stairs and out of the light. When he didn’t reappear by the stairs, Ed scanned the shadowed forms below and saw what might be Kenway walking fast to the nearest brothel and slipping inside.

“What’s got stuck in his craw?” Ben was frowning, visibly offended.

“Don’t chafe, Ben. He just realized he wanted the company of a lovely lady over two old codgers. Who can blame him?” Hornigold huffed and returned to his drink.

Looking around the tavern, Ed saw Kenway’s crew mates mingle with the other patrons. Most of them were subdued, drinking deeply, and not talking much, but some were boisterous, loud, and drawing attention. Had something happened that only affected some of the crew?

“Captain Hornigold. Captain Thatch. Fine evening we’re having.” The new arrival sat down at their table with a thump, slamming his tankard of rum into the table unnecessarily. 

“Captain Bramah. You’ve returned to Nassau. Have you had any success?” Ben disliked Bramah as much as Ed did, but his manners were better.   
Ed stayed silent while Bramah regaled his stories, instead watching the other patrons. Several men from the Jackobite crew had stood up and left when their Captain arrived at the tavern, the men melting quietly away into the shadows. Ed knew some crewmen who were uncomfortable socializing with their captain off the ship, preferring to sit at separate tables, but he’d never seen anyone leave an establishment just because their Captain walked in. He glanced at the door Kenway had slipped through and wondered if he’d be coming out again tonight.

“Really? My impression was always that Kenway was a hard worker, with skill for sailing, and loyalty to Captain, crew, and the quest for gold.”

Ed’s attention snapped back to the conversation taking place beside him.

“Well, ya were wrong then, weren’t ya? He’s an uppity little shit, talking back, disobeying orders, thinking he should have it easier than the rest. Seems he’s been coddled by his former Captain, used to a _softer_ touch.” Bramah brayed out a laugh, rum and spittle flying, while he elbowed Ed hard in the ribs. “Not a worry, though, gents. I’m setting him straight! Beating that sass right out of him. He’ll be decent once he learns his place. _Under my boot_!” Bramah laughed raucously again and pounded his fist on the table, making their tankards jump. Ben met Ed’s gaze, his lips a thin line of suppressed anger.

Ed stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly behind him. “Night Ben. Bramah.”

Bramah’s voice floated after him as he walked away up towards the church, spewing abuse about Ed being a sensitive woman who couldn’t take friendly criticism, followed by taunts about being too old for drinking and staying up late. Giving him no heed, Ed walked to the house where he was renting his room.

As he pulled off his coat and boots and laid down on the bed, he found himself wondering if Kenway would turn up at his door in the night, seeking comfort. Ed chided himself. Not only did Kenway not know where Ed was staying now, he was already seeking his comfort elsewhere. The young man’s flight when he realized Ben and Ed were at the tavern told Ed all he needed to know about Kenway’s desire to see him tonight.

* * *


	2. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the next several days, Ed ran into Kenway more than once. Coming in or out of a brothel, at the tavern with a girl on his lap and his hands in her skirts, and on very rare occasions, on his own, nose deep in a mug of rum. Each time, the young man would greet him with a clipped ‘Thatch’, eyes sliding away, disinterested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to find a contemporary slang word for gay man, and I think the two I found are contemporary-ish. Sodomite and molly. Neither are very nice words, of course. But this is not really a nice time or a nice context.  
> Punk used to mean young male prostitute.

Over the next several days, Ed ran into Kenway more than once. Coming in or out of a brothel, at the tavern with a girl on his lap and his hands in her skirts, and on very rare occasions, on his own, nose deep in a mug of rum. Each time, the young man would greet him with a clipped ‘Thatch’, eyes sliding away, disinterested. To any other observer, Kenway’s behavior was identical to before he set sail with Bramah. To Thatch, there was a decided lack of joyful abandon this time. Now, it was as if he were performing chores, or a play he’d grown tired of.

The first time Kenway had called him ‘Thatch’ since he’d come back to Nassau, Ed thought it had meant something. A secret code like it used to be. But then Kenway didn’t look at him, talk to him, didn’t seek him out later, and Ed realised that Kenway was just using his name, same as everyone else. ‘Ed’ was too familiar, and he wasn’t his captain anymore, so what else was there? Ed felt a sadness at losing that code, though.

  
  


* * *

  
  


There was an itch under his skin. An urge to do something. To say something. To grab hold of Kenway and demand answers. What happened out there? What did they make him do? What had they done to him?

Ed remembered the young man standing in his cabin, stammering that he never wanted to be a pirate, had been forced. An essentially good man, fighting for a better life. Ed had never seen Kenway use more force than necessary, never taken joy in hurting others. He’d done what he had to, and then stopped before crossing the border into something else. Now, judging by Bramah’s talk, Kenway was being punished for his sense of fairness and restraint.

The itching under his skin got worse. A small petulant voice in his head wanted to know why Kenway hadn’t sought him out as soon as he stepped off the ship. Why he barely acknowledged Ed’s existence. Why he didn’t like him anymore. Ed snorted at the whiny, needy child in his head and suppressed the urge to slap himself to shut the voice up. Kenway didn’t owe him anything, hadn’t promised anything, and Ed acting like a besotted girl was unacceptable.

He stood and stalked off, steps pounding against the dirt as he strode to the brothel, intent on shutting the mouth of his petulant inner voice with a soft, happy lass on his lap, but as he got closer to the brightly lit building and the cheerful crowd outside, he veered off and turned his steps towards his rented room.

Turning in to the dark side street that would take him to his building, he saw a shadowy form ahead, fumbling with his trousers. The air stank of piss and liquor. As he got closer, the shadowed man turned to walk out of the alley and smacked right into Ed. The drunk went down, sprawling in the dirt, spewing slurred insults and curses at Ed.

“Kenway?” Seeming to not have heard him, the other man tried to stand up, but stumbled and failed, too drunk to find his balance. “Jaysus, Kenway, get up.” Ed grabbed hold of the young man and pulled him to his feet. He was still cursing, and now, having taken Ed’s assistance for an attack, was trying to swing a punch, making himself topple over again.

Sighing, Ed pulled the man up, throwing him over his shoulder, and started walking to his room. Kenway struggled against Ed's hold, until growled at him. “Stop yer struggling, boy, I’m trying to help ya!”

The young man stopped moving and went limp. “Thatch?” Kenway’s voice came muffled from behind.

“Aye, boy. It’s your old friend Thatch.” Pulling open the door to the building, he carried his burden upp the two flights of stairs to his room, and once inside, dropped Kenway on the bed.

This room was marginally better than the last one they’d been in together. An actual bed instead of the rickety cot, a small but sturdy table with two matching chairs, a small cabinet with a pitcher and washbasin placed on top, a small cloudy mirror on the wall, and even a sad semblance of curtains over the window.

Ed sat in a chair and watched Kenway struggle to sit up on the bed. Finally, he managed to swing both legs in the right direction and planted his feet on the floor. His head fell between his knees with a groan. “There’s a pisspot under the bed if you need to spew.”

Kenway grunted and swept his arms in search of the pot. Finding it, he clutched it to his face and turned his stomach into it. Heaving and spitting for a few minutes, Kenway finally managed to retake control of his stomach. Ed took the pot and threw the pungent contents out the window, leaving it open in the hope it would clear the air. Grabbing the pitcher on the cabinet, he poured some water into an empty tankard on the table, and handed it to Kenway who drank and rinsed his mouth.

“Don’t suppose you have anything stronger?” Kenway’s words were less slurred and slow.

“You’ve had enough.”

Kenway sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, how ya been, Thatch?”

“Oh, you know. Up and down, turned to piracy since we last spoke. And you? How you been?”

“Me? Oh, can’t complain. Same old drudgery.”

“Yeah? That why you spending every waking moment buried in a quim or a tankard? No time for old friends, since you’re too busy with your drudgery?”

“Jealous, Thatch? Old and lonely and can’t get it up for the girls anymore?” The comment Kenway spat out was full of vitriol and venom, and Thatch was taken aback. The boy had never spoken like that to him or anyone else. He watched as Kenway’s jeering sneer melted into a grimace.

“Sorry.” The young man scrubbed his hands over his face again. “I should go.”

He stood up from the bed, but Ed shot up out of his chair and pushed him back down again, roughly. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. What happened to you?”

Kenway struggled for a moment against Ed’s hands on his shoulders, but gave up and slumped back down. Ed returned to his seat. “You were right. Bramah is a cruel, sadistic, bastard and working for him is changing me. Happy? That what you wanted to hear? You were right.”

“No, it doesn’t make me happy, and it doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me and Hornigold and everyone else.” Kenway stared at his feet and said nothing. “You’ve got friends here, Kenway. If you don’t like crewing for Bramah, you can join a different crew. You know I’d be happy to have you, as would Hornigold.”

Kenway hissed and stood up making Ed shoot up again, but the younger man only reached over and shut the window before sitting back down again. “There are rumors.”

Ed sat back down in his chair.

“Rumors about me. About you.” Kenway wiped his palms in his legs. “Bramah’s ship is not a good place to be if the crew think you're molly. And some of the crew were on the Sea Dog, or know people from the Sea Dog. So there are rumours. I don’t think Evans and me were careful, as maybe we should’ve been. Didn’t seem to matter on the Dog.”   
Kenway scrubbed his face again “So once we set sail, some of the crew assumed and tried to take liberties. I had to fight, had some close calls, but I’m good at fighting. Then Bramah and his _style_ of piracy just… yeah, you were right about that. And when I balked, pulled away, refrained… well, Bramah didn’t like that, did he? Called me weak and timid and told the crew it was because of Captain Ed “the Sodomite” Thatch. Said you’re soft and gentle, not a real privateer or pirate, no thirst for gold or blood. Made sure the whole crew knew that it was well known that I had been your “boy” on the Sea Dog, but now it was time to beat that out of me. Time to grow up and be a real sailor, a real man.”

Ed sat quietly, watching Kenway where he sat with his head in his hands.

“I was in pretty bad shape after that first beating, in no position to fight anyone. Clem and Billy from the Dog, well I guess they took pity on me, they tossed me in the brig with the keys. Well, after that, there wasn’t any room for anything but fighting. Fighting the crew and fighting for gold. It got alright after a few weeks. The crew learned I wasn’t willing and Bramah beat me less, and then we were just… pirating. But then we got closer to port and Bramah started commenting on how pleased I must be to finally be getting back to you. And that got the crew going again. I was ‘punk’ or ‘molly’ all the whole rest of the journey back here.”   
Kenway stood up and paced the tiny room in frustration. “Don’t you see?! I couldn’t risk anyone on that crew seeing me even _talk_ to you. They’d make the rest of my time with them **hell** and there’s only so many fights you can win before you start losing.”

Ed cleared his throat and tried to keep his anger at Kenway’s treatment in check. “You’re back now, you can crew another ship with a more sensible captain, and not suffer any more of that man’s madness.”

“No, I can’t.” The young man was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, face dark. “I aim to sail these waters until I have a fortune and some fame to go with it. And to get that, I need to become Captain myself one day. I will never get there, will never have the respect of the sailors that I need, if I run away from this and let you and Hornigold rescue me. If I leave Bramah now, like this, the rumors of my being a soft, timid, cowardly molly will never really go away. And that, Thatch. That _will_ get me killed.”

Ed hung his head in silence. The young man was right, of course.

Kenway suddenly slammed his fist into the wall, making Ed jump. “How did he know?!” He sat back down on the bed again, heavy. “How could Bramah know about us? It was only _three times_. And I _never_ told anyone, not even Evans knew a thing. I never heard _anything_ on the Sea Dog about you or about us. No snickers or smirks or side eyes, no jokes about the Captain keeping company.”

Ed shook his head. “I don’t know. I never talked about it. And I’ve always been very careful, very rarely indulged. Not that it’s not acceptable for a Captain to keep company, I know several who do. I just… I never liked wondering if he’s there for his own sake, or for protection, advancement, status, or if he thought he had to.”

The two men sat silently for a few minutes, then Kenway stood up. “I have to go. I can’t be seen coming out of here.” He walked to the door, but stopped and walked back. He stood in front of Ed, just outside the vee of his legs. 

“Look, Thatch, I… I _have_ missed you. I thought things would be different. That I could come back here and… just… come back here. I’m sorry. I wanted more, but I have to think of what happens outside this room.” Kenway seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he grabbed Ed by the hair at the back of his neck and kissed him. It was over before it began and then Kenway was out the door, and down the stairs, vanishing into the night.

Ed sat in the chair, feeling his lips tingle, and pondered Kenway’s question. How _did_ Bramah know?

“Hocking.”

  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter featured some very unrealistic sobering-up, which is a trope I’m sure you recognize from film and tv. But it is a trope, and not real.  
> Remember kids (who shouldn’t be reading this in the first place) you can’t sober up from the effects of alcohol (or other drugs) just because you want to or have something important to say or do. No one can. Drunk is drunk. Stoned is stoned. High is high. If there’s something important that needs to be discussed - like consent! - or that needs to be done - like sex! - well, that’s just going to have to wait until all concerned parties are of sound mind again. Clear?


	3. Interlude - Conversation between Captains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed watched as the Ranger docked and climbed aboard. Hornigold had left shortly after the Jackobite arrived and had thereby missed most of Kenway’s rampage through the town's whores and rum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just a short conversation between Thatch and Hornigold, which feels like a strange format for this fic, but.. we need the exposition.

* * *

  
Ed watched as the Ranger docked and climbed aboard. Hornigold had left shortly after the Jackobite arrived and had thereby missed most of Kenway’s rampage through the town's whores and rum.

“Thatch! How the devil are ya?” Hornigold clapped him on the shoulder in a hearty greeting.

“Fine, Ben, fine. Need a word in private.”

Hornigold’s friendly smile slid from his face, replaced by a look of concern. “Sure, Ed. Let’s go to my cabin.”

Once inside, Ed stood awkward, unsure of how to start.

“So, what’s amiss? Is it the fleet? The crown?” Hornigold stood in front of him, arms crossed.

“Ah, no, Ben. Nothin’ so big. It’s Kenway.”

“What about him?” With the reassurance that it wasn’t a large-scale emergency, Hornigold walked over to his desk and grabbed a bottle of rum, taking a swig. “Did you find out why he was so pissy when he arrived?”

He handed the bottle over to Ed who held it in his hands. “Aye, I did. He’s been harassed and beaten by the crew for being soft and a… sodomite.”

Ben looked at him, expecting more. “What? Sailors taking issue with men comforting each other? Where did Bramah find them? A fucking monestary?!”

“I don’t think the crew took issue with whether Kenway is a sodomite. They seemed to take issue with him not wanting to submit to them. Apparently he’s been fighting tooth and nail since they set sail to fend off the crew.”

Ben huffed a breath, irritated. “And I suppose Bramah found no reason to step in and stop it?”

“No, from Kenway’s tale, he made it worse.” Ed took a long drink from the bottle in his hands. “Seems Bramah took offence to Kenway’s lack of sadism and general restraint from violence, and decided to punish him. Told the crew that Kenway had been my “boy” on the Sea Dog, and that it had made him soft and weak, and now they needed to beat that out of him.”

“Jaysus!” Ben snatched the bottle back and drank.

“Bramah and the crew beat him to within an inch of his life. Took him most of the trip to get the crew to lay off him. But then they returned to Nassau and the taunts of being my “boy” started up again.”

“So that’s why Kenway’s avoiding us, doesn’t want the crew to get any ideas?”

“Aye, that’s the gist of it.”

“Well, where is he now? We’ll have to fix him up with a decent ship again.”

“He’s on the Jackobite.”

“What?!” Ben was incredulous. “Why?!”

Ed sighed and took the bottle back for a swig. “If he leaves, he proves them right, and he will never be a feared and respected Pirate Captain.”

Ben snorted a laugh. “He said that? Jaysus, fucking kid.”

“He’s not wrong though, is he, Ben? With that whole crew talking about him all over the west indies, setting his character in the eyes of people before he ever meets them. Pinning him in as soft and timid, a coward who shies away from violence… He’d have a hell of a time achieving his goal with that hanging over him.”

“Yeah… So, what? We do nothing?”

Ed gave a terse nod and took another swig from the bottle. “Ben. According to Kenway, Bramah said that it was “well known” that Kenway was “my boy”. He referred to me as Ed “the Sodomite” Thatch.” He took another drink and looked at Ben, who looked back, listening. “I was under the impression that it was, in fact, not “well known”.

Ben coughed in surprise. “It’s true, Kenway was your…? I never would have guessed.”

“No he wasn’t. Not as such. But there were a couple of… encounters. Encounters no one knew about.”

“Except, somehow Bramah knows?”

“Aye.”

“Well, it’s like I said, we’re sailors. Everyone does it to some extent, there’s no shame in comfort. You’re offended Bramah’s calling you a sodomite?”

“No, I couldn’t give two tits about what Bramah thinks of me. I take issue with how he got the information. I never told about Kenway, and he never spoke about me. To my knowledge, the only other person to suspect anything was Hocking.”

“And you think he told Bramah?”

“Aye.”

“Well, men talk. It’s to be expected. Besides, you said you didn’t care what Bramah thinks of you.”

“I don’t. But Hocking knew well how little I care for Bramah and his ways, yet he decided to go tell that man tales about me. Tales that seem to not even have been flourishing on my own ship. And now Bramah’s using what Hocking gave him to excuse torturing Kenway. To my mind, this seems personal, seems Hocking is aiming to hurt or undermine me. And that, I do mind.”

“You’re angry with Hocking.”

“Aye.”

“You want to let him know?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“We gave him his own ship in the fleet to captain, right? The Sea…”

“The Seafoam, aye. Get word out I’m looking for him, yeah?” Ben nodded and Ed left the ship, pondering what he would do when he ran into Hocking next.

* * *


	4. Interlude - Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was relentless. Always someone jeering, groping, or shoving him around.  
> Edward knew now that he had been stupid. He should have taken Thatch up on his offer to rejoin the Sea Dog’s Bite. There was no hope for him turning the Jackobite crew around. As soon as they relaxed and laid off him for a while, Bramah would come up with a bullshit reason to give him a public beating, and take the opportunity to remind the crew what a soft, timid, cowardly, little punk he really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, this chapter contains graphic description of sexual assault, an attempted rape as well as graphic depictions of violence.
> 
> You do NOT have to read this to follow the rest of the story. This is an interlude told from Kenway’s POV, and helps to add meaning to what occurs in the next chapter. If you are not comfortable reading the subject of this chapter, just skip it and bring with you the general knowledge that in Kenway’s POV there’s sexual assault, an attempted rape, followed by graphic violence.

* * *

_War is a slippery slope._

_what would you do?_

_becomes_

_what will you do?_

_becomes_

_my god, what have you done?_

_\- you meant so well_

(poem by unknown. if _you_ know, let _me_ know so I can credit.)

* * *

It was relentless. Always someone jeering, groping, or shoving him around. Edward knew now that he had been stupid. He should have taken Thatch up on his offer to rejoin the Sea Dog’s Bite. There was no hope for him turning the Jackobite crew around. As soon as they relaxed and laid off him for a while, Bramah would come up with a bullshit reason to give him a public beating, and take the opportunity to remind the crew what a soft, timid, cowardly, little _punk_ he really was.

All that stupid effort he’s put in in Nassau hadn’t helped at all. The crew had just taunted and grabbed at him. ‘Now that you’ve had your fill of quim, you must be just gagging for a nice hard shaft in your throat.’ Edward scrubbed harder at the deck and swallowed at the tears threatening to bubble up. He was going to die out here. Stupid little shit that he was, he’d never really believed that before. Had scoffed at Caroline’s and his mother’s worry. With every fight and close call, he’d always gotten out alive and mostly unscathed, and had naively believed that things would always turn out that way.

But here he was exhausted from lack of food from the crew denying him his full share, exhausted from lack of sleep from having to sleep with one eye open and often fend of groping hands in the night, exhausted from all the fights and beatings the crew and Bramah put him through, exhausted from all the backbreaking - unnecessary - labour Bramah kept throwing at him. Edward could feel his body begin to give up, and knew he wouldn’t come out on top for much longer. He was going to die out here, not in a raid, or in taking a ship, or even hung for piracy. No, he was going to die at the hands of his own crew, with the blessing of their Captain.

He would never see Caroline again. Beautiful, clever Caroline, with her red hair, and sweet smile that she always used to give him, and soft neck that smelled like love, and potential beautiful futures, and of home. He’d failed her, just like he’d failed at everything else. Edward bit his cheek to stop the tears. He would never see Thatch again. He’d really screwed that up too. Had a chance to be with him one last time and threw it away for absolutely no good reason at all. Thatch smelled like home too, but a different kind of home. A forbidden, dangerous home.

Edward was pulled out of his reverie by the lookout shouting from above. “Ship ho!” There was a scuffle to collect weapons and gear, man the cannons and prepare for battle. It was only a small schooner. A merchant without weapons or much of value in the hold.

Bramah was angry, he’d wanted a better haul, and when he didn’t get it, he tortured the crew on the pretext of finding gold hidden on the little ship. As Bramah cut off ears and lips, crushed hands and testes, stuck out eyes and slit throats, Edward stood impassive, face turned towards the carnage, but eyes unfocused, unseeing. Finally, their captain gave up on the imaginary gold and ordered the dead and dying tossed overboard and the schooner scuttled.

Edward and the crew transferred everything of value or use to the Jackobite and fired the cannons into the remains. He didn’t listen to the sobbing pleas floating up from the sea below. As he started to descend into the ship, carrying a mess of ropes, Bramah came up behind him, cracking him over the back of the head with the butt of his sword, making Edward fall forward down the steps. “You were a useless little shit today, Kenway. I should just toss ya overboard and be done with ya!”

Edward wasn’t listening though. Falling, his arms were tangled in the coils of rope, no chance to catch himself or grab on. Below him, Thomas and Smith were carrying their own supplies, which were dropped and scattered as Edward tumbled down into the two men. He landed hard on the floor, cracking his chin and the wind knocked out of him.

Having their hands free, the other men fared slightly better in the fall, and were up and rounding on Edward before he’d caught his breath. “Kenway, you useless little punk! You’re going to apologize for that.” A punch landed on the side of his head as he pushed himself off the floor. The impact made the room spin and his vision blur. Rough hands grabbed his arms and legs, and he was lifted from the floor. The men carried him deeper down into the ship until they arrived in the crew quarters.

Because of the battle, no one was sleeping, and most of the hammocks were stowed away, but the room was by no means empty of crew. There were men bringing in supplies and cargo, men wrapping up cuts and tending to bruises, and men stowing away their weapons. They all looked up when Edward was carried into the room and unceremoniously tossed to the floor. “I’m really tired of your shit, Kenway. Always pickin’ fights, always disrespectful, never knowing your goddamn place.” 

Thomas kicked Edward in the side when he tried to get to his feet. “Well, you’re going to apologize to me and Smith for what you did back there, and then you’re going to apologize to the rest of the crew. You are going to apologize to everybody, good and proper, until we’re all _satisfied_ and believe you really mean it, until you’re learned your _place_.” The men in the room were gathering around them, and scattered cheers and laughter rose up from the crowd.

“Go to hell, Thomas.” Edward spat blood on the floor and tried to get to his feet again. Behind him, Smith grabbed his arms and wrenched them painfully, to keep Edward on his knees.

In front of him, Thomas was undoing his trousers and pulling out his member, already swollen and red. Grabbing Edwards hair, he pushed it into his face. “Now now, Kenway, that’s not nice. Open your pretty lips and apologize to me properly.” The slimy mushroomed head pushed and smeared against his lips and chin, and Edward clamped his mouth shut. Thomas chuckled and pinched his nose, waiting patiently for him to run out of air and open his mouth.

Edward squeezed his eyes tight, and pushed the tears down. His thoughts swirled as his air ran out. Was there a way out of this? He didn’t want to die. The crew surrounding them laughed and jeered, calling out suggestions and claiming their turns after Thomas and Smith. A small voice in his head pleaded to just do it. Just do it, it’ll be ok. Pretend it’s Thatch, pretend it’s Evans. Just do it and it’ll be over. It’ll be over and ok.

But a stronger voice broke in. No, it won’t be ok. After Thomas, there’s Smith, and after him the _entire crew_. And even if we manage to survive that, we won’t live through the next round. If we are going to die, we are going to die fighting, and take as many of them with us as we can. Go on, kill them. We have nothing left to lose, and nothing left to save our strength for.

Edward was out of air now, had to open his mouth. So, he did. Sucking in a gulping breath, and with it came Thomas slimy glands and cruel laughter from above. The laughter stopped abruptly when Edward’s teeth sank into the spongy flesh, ripping through it and tearing it from Thomas’ body. Blood welled into his mouth and gushed out of his lips as Thomas screamed and stumbled backwards.

Smith’s grip on his arms slackened in surprise and Edward wrenched free, staggering to his feet. Spitting the chunk of flesh towards the still screaming Thomas, Edward spun around to face Smith, who’s eyes were fixed on Thomas’ bleeding crotch. Gripping the brute by the collar, he lifted him off his feet and ran him into the wall, intent on knocking the breath and sense out of him for long enough to strangle the bastard. 

In impacting the wall, Smith’s eyes flew open in a dead vacant stare. A second later, his moth slid open and a trickle of blood poured out. Edward had slammed his head straight onto one of the hooks the crew hung their hammocks from. There was no time to reflect on Smith’s fate, Edward spun around and stalked over to Thomas, who was still screaming and clutching at his crotch. He kicked him in the head, sending him sprawling on the floor, crew scattering out of the way.

Edward leapt on top of the prone man and grabbed his head. Smashing his thumbs into Thomas’ eyes, he felt the squishy balls rupture and his thumbs slid deeper into the eye sockets. Gripping tight, he slammed the head into the floor, over and over and over, until it stopped feeling like a hard bony skull, and started feeling like a spongy mess. Letting go, he jumped to his feet and stomped his boots on the mangled head, flattening and smearing the bloody tissue over the rough planks.

Breathing heavy, he lifted his head and motioned to the crew. “Well, come one! Who’s next?! You were all so fucking eager a minute ago!” The stunned crew stared silently, unmoving. Spinning around to search for volunteers, for attackers, Edward spied Bramah standing in the doorway.

“Captain! You must be so pleased. So proud of me!” Edward cackled manically, eyes and blood smeared grin wide. Stalking over, he grabbed Bramah’s shirt and wiped his bloody, gore-smeared hands. “Well? Well? Aren’t you happy, _Captain_? Isn’t this just what you wanted? I have proven to you that I am capable of _great_ violence. Of overkill. Of utterly destroying my victims. The difference between us, _Captain_ , is that I reserve that violence for people I  **really** want dead.”   
  
Bramah stood, face impassive, meeting Edward’s manic gaze. “Do you need a further demonstration? Should I torture someone, perhaps?” Edward gripped Bramah’s shoulder hard, and stepped in close. “Someone I  **really** want to see dead?”

Bramah huffed out a derisive snort and pushed Edward away, turning to the crowd. “Why are you all standing around here for? There’s cargo to be stowed and a ship to sail! Lazy fuckin’ ingrates.” With that, he spun on his heel and walked off, leaving Edward alone with the silent crew. They shuffled and murmured and looked away, letting Edward pass as he walked to the other end of the room.

As the crew filed out through the doorway, Edward called after them, voice full of hatred and threat of violence. “One of you better be cleaning up that mess! It’s disgusting!”   
Turning his back on the crew, he hung his hammock and laid down to sleep. The risk of being attacked and murdered in his sleep was imminent, but Edward didn’t have a choice. He had given his all, fully expecting to not survive. Having been exhausted and drained even before, his body now demanded rest or death.

He sank into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

Edward woke up what felt like many hours or days later. The crew quarters were dark and silent, save for the sounds of the men sleeping all around him. Slipping out of the hammock, he took stock of himself.

He was parched, in fact severely dehydrated, his tongue a dry husk in his mouth, and his lips cracked and bled when he moved them. His stomach felt like a hollow, aching pit, and his head throbbed painfully. There was a swelling around his eye from where Thomas had punched him, and bruising around his jaw from where he fell down the steps. Two teeth were loose, but none were cracked or missing. His mouth, chin, and throat was caked with old, dried blood, the collar of his tunic stained a rusty brown with it.

With slow steps, Edward made his way to the galley in search of food and drink. On his way out the crew quarters, he noted that the bodies of Smith and Thomas were gone, and the blood mopped up, though dark stains still decorated the wood.

  
  


* * *

During the following weeks, things were different on the ship. No more taunts and jeering, no one grabbing or shoving him, even Bramah had relented and given him normal work to do, without the accompanying vitriol. The crew didn’t talk to him though, avoided him when they could, and stayed silent when they couldn’t. Conversations stopped when he entered rooms, groups scattered when he came near. Life on a ship in the middle of the ocean was hard. But it was worse when you were completely isolated and alone. Camaraderie lets a man carry a much heavier burden, than a man alone. And Edward was as alone as it was possible to get on a ship full of crew.

* * *

When they docked at Salt Key Bank, more than a month after the incident with Thomas and Smith, Edward was at his wits end. He was sleeping enough, eating enough, his wounds had healed, his back wasn’t breaking under a heavier burden than his crewmates, but the isolation made him feel like a ghost. Like he’d really died that day and was now stuck haunting that wretched ship forever.

Stepping of the ship, his first aim was to find a whore and prove to himself that he was alive. Taking the first offer that came, he was pulled into a tiny little shack right there on the dock. The woman was older, maybe even older than his mum, but it didn’t matter. She spoke to him, touched him, acknowledged his existence.

She laid down on the rickety cot, skirt pulled up to expose her crotch, and Edward kneeled between her legs and pushed inside. Neither of them pretended any enthusiasm. After the first couple of thrusts though, Edward buried his face in the woman’s neck and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her in tight, and rutted into her like a stupid, useless, animal. Her neck smelled like old, dried sweat, cigar smoke, and too much perfume. It didn’t matter, she was warm and alive under him, and accepted him with a light hand on the back of his head. When he finished, he stayed with his face buried in her neck for a while, trying to quell his shuddering breaths and the tears threatening to fall.

“Sweet child, what happened to you out there?” Her demeanor was motherly now, clashing uncomfortably with his softening member still inside her quim. He pulled away and stood up, tucking himself into his trousers again. A tear fell down his cheek, and the woman pulled up the hem of her skirt to wipe it away. “You’ll be alright, love. Just head up to the tavern and have a drink, find a pretty girl to hold in your lap and make your smile.” She patted his cheek and walked out to flag down the next sailor too desperate to climb the stairs to the tavern or the brothel.

  
Edward had been to Salt Key Bank before, liked it then. The village was built high up into the hills on stilts and pillars, with strange winding wooden paths that took you all around, but not directly to where you wanted to go. Shortcuts were available in the form of long, narrow, ladders that shook alarmingly when you climbed them. The settlement was cut in half by a wide chasm, formed by an inlet in the rocky island. The two halves of the village had been joined by two rickety bridges, but now only one remained, the other collapsed, leaving only two decaying platforms jutting out over the water. The whole place was a death trap, but fun if you were sure footed and not afraid of heights.

Edward climbed the ladder leading directly to the tavern and stalked over to the barkeep for a drink.

“Hey, Kenway!” He turned around, startled. No one but Bramah had said his name in over a month, and never in such a friendly, jovial manner. A man from a nearby table stood up and walked over, clapping him on the shoulder and smiling. It was Stubbs, and at the table, Rotham and Gildford. His old crew mates from the Sea Dog’s Bite. Looking around, he saw his old crew scattered all over the tavern.   
Stubbs was pulling him to sit at the table, and the other two men laughed. “You’re so surprised to see us, Kenway! Didn’t you see the Dog when you docked?”

He looked around, down towards the ships and saw the Dog docked right next to the Jackobite. Laughing, he shook his head. “Missed it completely, lost in my own head. How you boys been?”

  
He sat with his old crew for hours listening to stories and gossip, and basking in the feeling of belonging. But as the day wore on into evening, and the drinks muddled his mind, he started wondering who among them had talked to Bramah, which of them had even known about Thatch. Someone in this tavern might be to blame for everything that had been happening to him since boarding the Jackobite.

Around them, his crew were getting drunker as well, and with their drinks came their rough, brutish, violent side. They picked pointless fights with each other, with the Sea Dog crew, with the locals, even with the whores. But not with Edward. They were still acting as if he didn’t exist.

As dusk settled, the locals and the Sea Dog crew all left, and they were alone at the tavern. His crewmates were rowdy, and angry, and the drink gave some of them renewed courage.   
“Hey Kenway!” The shouted words were very different from Stubbs greeting earlier. “Wasn’t you serving on the Sea Dog’s Bite before? Shouldn’t you be cuddling up with your sodomite Captain, like a good _boy_?” Crude laughter came from the men sitting around the jeering drunk, but at other tables, some men called out for them to shut up and leave it be. Most sat silent, staring into their drinks.

“Really? This shit again? Didn’t you lubbocks learn anything from Smith and Thomas?” The man was still cackling, not paying attention, when Edward walked over and tore him from his seat, throwing him over the railing to fall to the sandy beach far below. One of his table mates stood up, hollering with drunken rage. Edward grabbed him by the neck, and tossed him over as well.

Everyone in the tavern stared at him. “Can we be done with this shit now? Or do I have to kill the rest of ya?” Their eyes slid away from him and he sighed. No point staying at the tavern now. He walked over to the edge and stepped off the wooden platform, down onto the grass where several goats grazed in the low light of evening. Curious of the newcomer, the animals came over to him and he scratched their chins absently.

Where _was_ Thatch? Considering their last encounter, he might be in his ship, avoiding Edward and any trouble he might cause him if he turned up at the tavern or brothel. A yearning desire rose up inside him, he wasn’t making the same mistake this time. Thatch was somewhere on this island, and Edward was going to find him. He wasn’t stupid though, his peace on the Jackobite was still fragile. Walking openly through the village, up to the Sea Dog and into the Captain’s Cabin would set the fucking crew off again. But Edward knew this place, knew how to get around and avoid being seen. 

He walked over to the gulf separating the two halves of the village. The waterfall made a nice pool to dive into, and from there, he could swim in under the docks and climb aboard the Sea Dog unnoticed. Standing on the edge, he looked down at the water, and around for any prying eyes. Across the way sat a man, leaning against a tree, seemingly deep in thought.

Edward let out an audible gasp. It was Thatch. Right there on the other side. Without a second thought, Edward dove into the water and swam quickly around to where he could climb up into the other side of the village without being seen from the Jackobite or the tavern. As he pulled himself out of the water, clouds swept in and a heavy tropical rain started to fall. Climbing up, he made his way in under the buildings and towards the place he’d seen Thatch.

There he was, walking slowly towards the buildings. Just an outline in the dark, but unmistakably Thatch. Edward’s chest squeezed painfully, memories of how he thought he would die without seeing the older man again washing over him. All the wretched misery of the past months bubbled up inside him. The memory of Thomas strong, greasy fingers pinching his nose, of his slimy glands pushing past Edwards lips, the chunk of them laying on his tongue, pushed dangerously far back into his throat by the heavy spray of blood, the sudden absence of life in Smith’s eyes, Thomas’ eyes and skull yielding under his grip, the thick, slippery feeling of goo under his boot as he smeared Thomas’ head into the floor, and the heavy, oppressive, mind altering, loneliness of the past months. Edward suddenly felt as exhausted as he had after Thomas, and stepped out from under the building, towards Thatch.  
  


* * *


	5. Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sea Dog’s Bite had been docked at Salt Key Bank for two days when the Jackobite slid into port. The ship looked like it had seen a fight or two, and was in need of some repair.
> 
> Ed had been on his way up to the tavern for a drink and a bite to eat, but the arrival of Bramah and his crew dissuaded him.
> 
> Kenway would need the tavern and its offerings more than Ed did, and even without that consideration, Ed would rather swim back to Bristol than having to listen to that cunt Bramah all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr Israel Hands was canonically and historically Thatch’s First Mate on the Queen Anne’s Revenge, though I’m not sure when he gained that position, so I don’t know if he would have been First Mate during this time period. But I needed someone to take over for Hocking (my OC) and Hands was the obvious choice.

* * *

* * *

The Sea Dog’s Bite had been docked at Salt Key Bank for two days when the Jackobite slid into port. The ship looked like it had seen a fight or two, and was in need of some repair. Ed had been on his way up to the tavern for a drink and a bite to eat, but the arrival of Bramah and his crew dissuaded him. Kenway would need the tavern and its offerings more than Ed did, and even without that consideration, Ed would rather swim back to Bristol than having to listen to that cunt Bramah all night.

Sighing, Ed went and picked up a few sticks of grilled meat and a bottle of rum from a vendor at the market. Salt Key Bank was an odd place, where all the houses were built on stilts, even far up on the cliffs, well out of reach of the waves. This meant the grass covered hills under the buildings and winding paths made shadowed and secluded spaces all over the village. Perfect for stealing some time with a sweetheart, hiding from work, or in Ed’s case, hiding from the Jackobite crew.

Ed hopped down from the promenade and walked over to the edge of the cliff, sitting down with his back to a large tree, eating his improvised picnic, and watched the waterfall as it thundered down into the inlet below.

* * *

He sat there for a long time, mesmerised by the falling water, and lost himself in thought as the bright daylight softened into dusk. The sounds of the tavern across the inlet became louder as the shadows lengthen, music mingling with drunken laughter and shouts. Something made him rouse from his daze and he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Turning, he looked over to the other side and saw Kenway standing on a platform jutting out over the water. Before Ed had time to register what he was seeing, Kenway jumped out and dove into the water below.

Ed shot to his feet, a strangled cry dying on his lips. It was too high, and the water too shallow, Kenway could not have survived the fall. Scanning the surface far below, he searched for Kenway’s lifeless form. Instead he saw the young man swimming out of the inlet and in under the wooden pillars for the docks. Walking slowly away from the tree and back towards the houses, Ed was disturbed. Had he really seen Kenway make that impossible jump and survive? Or was it another man swimming away from the site, startle by the body dropping down?

In the way of these tropics, a heavy rain suddenly swept in, unannounced, and turned the dusky evening darker. Ed’s steps became slower, heavier, as he neared the pillars of the village. The rain felt like a confirmation of the dark, wretched reality of the moment. Edward was gone.

Then, in front of him, from the deep shadowed places under the village stepped a man. Edward Kenway, sopping wet from his swim and the rain. Ed’s breath caught in his throat and he stumbled forward.

“Edward.” Gripping and pulling the young man into a hug, he whispered hoarsely. “I thought you were dead. That dive…”

Kenway pushed him away lightly, a tired smile on his face. “Not here.” With a tight hold on Ed’s arm, Kenway pulled him deep in under the pillars of the village until they found a place that protected them from prying eyes.

Once secluded and out of the rain, Ed was pulled into Kenway’s arms in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around the young man’s back and held on, just as tightly.   
They stood like that for a long time, clutching hard, until Ed felt Kenway’s shoulder’s shake and realized the boy was crying. Cupping one hand to the blond head, he let the other stroke soothing circles over the quaking back. The rain thundered above them, drowning out any sound from the village above, and they stood together until dusk had shifted into night and the world around them was pitch black.

Kenway’s sobs stilled, his breathing slowed, and his clutching arms loosened slightly, Ed loosened his hold as well, readying to have an awkward conversation about Kenway’s situation and how he couldn’t let it go on like this anymore. A conversation Kenway would likely try to run away from. But his thoughts were interrupted by Kenway’s lips on his neck.

The young man was murmuring against his skin, barely audible over the thundering rain. “Let me, let me, let me please.” Then his face disappeared from Ed’s neck and warm, soft lips, wet from the rain and tears, pressed against Ed’s own. He yielded and opened his mouth, feeling Edward’s tongue lick against his own. A moan rumbled up deep inside his chest and Ed clutched the blond head tighter.

It had been so long, he’d missed the taste and scent and touch and sound and look of the young man since he’d left with Bramah. Where there before had been lascivious fantasies during the day, and deep, salacious, throbbing dreams at night, were now only cold gnawing dread that Edward was suffering, was hurting, was dead. But now he was here. Right here in Ed’s arms, and tasting so good. He let the hand not clutching Edward’s head glide down and grip his backside, pulling his hips closer. Edward growled into his mouth and walked Ed backwards until his back hit the wall of planks. The young man wrenched his mouth away to breathe, licking and kissing down into the crook of Ed’s neck again, while his hips ground into Ed’s.

Ed threw his head back at the sensations and cracked it into the wall. His head swam from lust and the impact, and he almost missed the murmured pleading Edward was pressing into his neck. “Please let me be Edward. Just Edward. Not Kenway, not now. Let me… please, let me be Edward.”

Ed let go of the young man’s backside and took hold of this head with both hands, pulling it up to look in his eyes. “Edward. Edward. Whatever you need.”   
  
He pulled him in for another deep kiss, and felt the young man’s hand move between their bodies, pulling at the fastenings of Ed’s breeches and smalls, pulling his member free. Mirroring him, Ed opened Edward’s trousers and felt the searing hot shaft spring into his hand.   
For a minute, there was nothing but their hands, each other’s hot, panting breaths against parted lips, but it wasn’t enough for Ed, he needed more of Edward. Their last time together, properly together, Ed hadn’t gotten to really touch him, to feel him, to give him his release. 

He let go of Edward’s member and pushed his trousers down his legs. Turning his head, breaking their hot, breathy kiss, he growled in desperate lust. “Off. Get them off.”

Edward pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it to the ground. Ed tore off his own coat and shirt, while Edward toed off his boots and kicked the trousers aside. Pushing his breeches lower on his thighs, Ed didn’t bother trying to take them or the boots off, but reached out in the space in front of him until he had hold of the young man again. Cursing the pitch black night, and the rain dousing any nearby flames, for hiding Edward’s naked form from him, Ed spun them around and pushed the young man against the wall, taking hold of his legs and hoisting them up around his waist.

The new position pushed their members together, and Edward let out a long moan, tightening his legs, and wrapping his arms around Ed’s neck. Ed held on to one of Edward’s thighs and let the other hand grip tight to a firm buttock. Sealing their mouths together, Ed sucked hard on Edward’s tongue and thrust his hips. The response from the young man in his arms was immediate. His hips bucked, arms and legs tightening impossibly, and a loud groan erupted from his chest, muffled against Ed’s tongue.

Ed felt the broad chest under his, miles and miles of skin sliding together, felt the strong muscles of Edward’s thigh and buttock working to meet Ed’s thrusts. Their members slid against each other and their bellies, slits weeping freely, slicking the tight, warm space between them. The world zeroed in on their thrusting members and questing tongues, and for minutes or hours it was all the two men knew. Then Edward spasmed in his arms, tearing free from Ed’s lips and pushing his face into his shoulder, biting down hard, hips still jerking frantically. Ed felt Edward’s sticky release spill between them and moaned, burying his nose in the blond hair, his hips still moving fast.

Edward’s legs slipped from ‘round his waist and his arms pushed at Ed to step back, the murmuring pleas back on his lips. “Let me, let me, please.” The young man sank to his knees and sucked Ed’s hard, wet, seemen streaked member into his mouth, pulling at his hips to make him thrust. 

Ed had been close before Edward slipped out of his arms, so now he pushed himself deep into the young man’s throat and clutched his head in his hands. A few thrusts and he slipped inside the warm mouth, hearing and feeling the responding moan. His knees grew weak and he slipped down to the grass in front of Edward, who reached out and pulled him in for another kiss.   
The rain was becoming less heavy, its thunderous roar giving way to a gentle pattering, taking away some of their shield to the outside world. Ed stood up and dragged his breeches back into place. By his feet, Edward fumbled on the ground for his trousers, pulling them on. 

Before he could find more of his clothing, Ed captured him, pressing their naked chests together. He held the young man for a moment, then spoke in a whisper. “You can’t stay on that ship, Edward. Not when it makes you this wretched.”

Edward sighed and pulled him in closer. “I know, Thatch, I know. But I think I’ve hit a turning point now. Something happened and… well the crew seems to treat me different after that.”

“What happened?” Ed’s gruff voice came out a little louder than intended.

“I… ah… I can’t talk about it. It’s… It happened and it’s in the past where it will stay.” A shudder passed through Edward who pulled out of Ed’s arms, and started searching in the dark for his clothes.

The clouds above were breaking up, though, and the gibbous moon gave them plenty of light to see by. Ed’s coat was laying in a puddle of rainwater, and his shirt was halfway out of their shelter, spread over the grass. A goat was chewing on one sleeve.

“Ah, dammit to hell! Shoo! Shoo!” Edward chuckled and walked over to the animal. Stroking it’s head and scratching under his chin, then gently extracted the slightly frayed sleeve from its mouth and held it out to Ed. “Stupid, mangy goat.”

“Hush, Thatch, don’t be mean. Don’t listen to the grumpy pirate, you’re a good goat.” Ed looked at the young man like he’d lost his marbles, but Edward just smiled and shrugged. “I like goats. They’re fun.” Ed shook his head and pulled on his wet clothes.

Now dressed, and with enough light to see by, the men stood a little awkwardly for a moment, before Kenway broke the silence. “I should head back to the tavern. It’s… ah, I think it’s better with them now, but I still think it’s best if they don’t see us together. I don’t want to risk…”

“Aye, I understand. I need to head to the ship anyway. Change and dry these clothes.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Thatch. I really… It was good to see you again. Really.” Kenway started to turn away, but turned back and gave Ed a hard kiss. “We’ll see each other soon, alright?”

“Aye, we will. Take care, son.” Ed watched Kenway walk out from under the houses and climb back onto the wooden walkway, disappearing in the direction of the tavern. He waited a few more minutes, giving the goat a suspicious side-eye as it calmly chewed on the green grass of the hillside.

* * *

When he felt enough time had passed, he stepped out from under the pillars and made his way down to the docks. His new First Mate, Mr Hands greeted him with a wide eyed look as he came aboard the ship.

“Captain Thatch, are you alright?”

Ed realised he must look a right state. “Got caught in the downpour. And.. ah… had a bit of a disagreement with a goat over who’s shirt this is.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, fighting a blush.

Hands laughed heartily and clapped him on the back. “Happens to the best of us. And goats are not to be trifled with, very stubborn creatures. Go and change into dry clothes and I’ll ask the cook to heat up some stew, get you warmed up.”

Ed thanked him and headed for his cabin. He liked Hands. Even before he had found out what a treacherous shit-stain Hocking was, Ed had often had the feeling he was being judged by Hocking, and always coming up lacking. Mr Hands was different. Not as serious and closed off, was more open in his feedback to Ed, regardless of good or bad, gave suggestions for improvements and ventures unprompted, and generally took the guesswork out of dealing with a First Mate. _And_ he had a matelotage on the ship, an arrangement Ed knew to be more than just financial. Ed admitted freely that that was part of the reason he had chosen Hands to replace Hocking.

* * *

Having changed into dry clothes, Ed made his way down to the galley. Inside were several of his men, chatting and drinking, and a chorus of greetings rose up as he entered. Hands motioned for him to sit, and the cook slid a bowl of stew and a mug of ale in front of him, and sat down to join them.

Tucking in, Ed scanned the jovial faces of his crew as they started singing a song about a lost boot. “Why are my crew drinking in the galley instead of at the tavern?”

Hands furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Well, it’s the Jackobite crew that arrived today. Most of our lads prefer to stay out of their way.”

The cook broke in, voice full of contempt. “It’s that fuckin’ Bramah. He picks only the worst sorts of brutes and savages for his crew. They’re always pickin’ fights and harassing the townsfolk. Our lads prefer more civilized company.”

Ed nodded and ate more stew. “Can’t fault them for that. Bramah is a real pisspot.” He looked up at Hands. “I reckon we best set sail in the morning, leave the brutes behind. No point in giving the lads leave if they’re just going to spend it on the ship.”

Hands gave him a wide smile. “Yes, Captain, just what I were going to suggest. And since we’re trying to catch up to the Seafoam, the quartermaster on the Jackobite told me they were spotted heading for Tortuga about a week back.”

“Excellent, then we have a heading.” Ed smiled to himself, and listened to his singing crew. Soon he’d catch up to Hocking, and when he did, Hocking would learn just how soft and gentle Ed really was.

* * *

Mr Israel Hands

* * *


	6. Comeuppance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hocking gets his comeuppance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we begin, I want to emphasize that there is some very explicit violence in this chapter. Not sexual violence, but that type of violence is talked about in non-descriptive terms.
> 
> ***
> 
> Regarding Tortuga;  
> In the game Tortuga is a crappy little plantation. In reality, Tortuga was one of the biggest pirate ports in the West Indies, though it seems like it was in decline during the game’s timeline, which I’ve chosen to ignore. So, in this story, I’m rejecting the game’s pathetic representation of that place. Instead, let us imagine it as a large, French-influenced, pirate-dominated settlement. Think of it as a cross between Nassau and Kingston, but French.  
> The French people and French colonies were much more relaxed than the British, Spanish, Portuguese, and Dutch about homosexuality and queer culture during this time period. Therefore (at least in my fictional Tortuga), there are parts of the town where people (and pirates) can go and be themselves, openly, without judgement.
> 
> Oh, and honestly… I have absolutely no idea how to conjugate “matelotage”. Just making something up, and I’m probably not being consistent over fics and chapters.

* * *

_To be peaceful, you have to be capable of great violence_

_If you are not capable of violence, you are not peaceful_

_You are harmless_

* * *

The Sea Dog’s Bite slid out of the dock at Salt Key Bank in the early morning light. After the previous night’s rain, the skies were clear and the seas calm. A strong breeze filled their sails and gave them good speed. Ed stood up on deck, breathing the fresh sea air, and feeling the wind on this face. He was contemplating what to do once he caught up to Hocking, and the different scenarios his mind conjured made him shiver. He was going to need to make preparations, and plan for contingencies, and he was likely going to need help.

* * *

They were a couple of days out from Tortuga when Ed called Hands into his cabin and asked him to take a seat by the desk. He stared silently at him for a few moments, readying himself for potentially losing his truly excellent First Mate.

Hands shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Captain? Is something wrong?”

“Mr Hands, do you know why we’re trying to catch up to the Seafoam?”

His First Mate looked confused, like he was unsure whether he was in trouble. “Ah… No, Captain.”

“Have you pondered or tried to guess why?”

“Not really… just that you need to talk to Hock… Captain Hocking about something.”

“Mmmm… I do indeed need to speak to Mr Hocking, and it’s time I let you in on my reasons why.” Ed stood up and walked over to the cabinet where he kept his liquor, and poured generous helpings of rum into two tankards, handing one off to Hands. The action made him think of Kenway, which in turn made him think of Hockings. Returning to his seat, he frowned and began to speak. “What did you think of Hocking when he was First Mate? What was your impression?”

Hands still looked uncomfortable, and took a drink to stall for time. “Well, ah… he kept the ship in order…”

“Speak true, Mr Hands. I like honesty, and I am very tired of underhandedness and deceit.”

The other man exhaled slowly, possibly fearing a trap. “Truthfully, Captain, I didn’t like him.”

“Go on. Explain.”

“He did keep the ship in order, that is true. It was the way he did it that caused the dislike. He would pit crewmen against each other, not in open fight but subtle-like. Telling them things the other had said or done, telling them lies! So that crewmen would carry grudges for infractions that never happened. He stole things, personal possessions, and put them in others belongings to make them look like thieves.” Hands paused for another drink, Ed could see that he was angry and holding it in check. “He was insulting and cruel with his words when talking to the crew. Especially the newcomers, the youngsters, and the… the people he didn’t like. He would give vague or incorrect instructions and then punish the crewmen who followed them wrong. And he always had a smug little smirk, like he found all the strife and misery amusing.” The man across from him was breathing a bit faster, and a slight reddening had crept up his cheeks.

“Were you one of the people he didn’t like? You and your matelote?”

“Aye, Captain, we’re just the sort of people Hocking won’t abide.”

“Well, Mr Hands, I can’t more than apologize to you and the crew for not seeing Hocking’s colors sooner. I must admit that he had me fooled for too long, and some good people have suffered for it.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Ed took a drink from his tankard and braced himself for the rest. Just because Hands had suffered under Hocking’s leadership, didn’t mean he would want part in what Ed had planned. “Do you remember Kenway?”

“Aye, sir. Didn’t know him well, he wasn’t on the ship long before the treaty.”

“Kenway was one of the people Hocking didn’t like.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Hands answered anyway. “Aye, Hocking to a real dislike to him. Him being new and a…”

“A sodomite.” Hands nodded and drank. “Would it surprise you to learn that I am also one of the people Hocking dislikes?”

The eyebrows on the man across from him shot up and his mouth formed a surprised O. “Yes, Captain. That… that does surprise. I never heard…”

“I try to keep it off the ship. Away from the crew. Don’t want to have to question motives and the like. No idea how Hocking found out. Must have followed me at some point.” Hands watched him silent, clearly unsure where this was going. “But Kenway… we had some encounters here on the ship. Somehow Hocking found out about that too.”

Ed drank. “He’s on the Jackobite, did you know?” Hands nodded, but stayed silent, listened. “He’s had a rough time of it, with that crew.” Another nod. “I didn’t reflect on it until Cook said it in the galley at Salt Key… Bramah only takes on the worst, roughest brutes. So why did he hire Kenway? The boy’s a good sailor, but he’s no brute.”

Hands shook his head, but the red was heavier on his cheeks. “Can’t say, Captain.”

“I met with Kenway a few months back, in Nassau. We had a bit of a talk about his time on the Jackobite. Told me something interesting. Said Bramah proclaimed that it was well known that I was keeping Kenway as my “boy” here on the ship. And claimed further that it is well known that I am a soft, gentle man, who goes by the moniker Ed “the Sodomite” Thatch.” Hands, who was talking a drink just then, coughed and sputtered. “If you, my First Mate, who has served on this ship for years in different capacities, are surprised by the news of my leanings and relationship with Kenway, how likely is it that it is _well known_?”

Hands shook his head and tried to clear his throat. “No, Captain. I’ve never heard any such things about you, with or without Kenway. Not on the ship or off.” He snorted derisively. “And I’ve certainly never heard you being accused of being soft or gentle.”

Ed smirked at his First Mate and raised his tankard in a salute. “My analysis of Bramah’s speech, Hocking’s actions on this ship, together with what has befallen Kenway, leads me to believe that Hocking has been talking with Bramah with intention to spread unfavorable rumors about me all over the West Indies. And we both know how damaging a soft reputation can be among our kind.” Hands nodded again. “Further, I believe that Hocking conspired with Bramah to take Kenway onto his crew. Bramah never having the intention of letting that boy be more than a punching bag, or worse. Hocking’s intention, I believe, was to hurt me, as well as to hurt Kenway.”

His First Mate was frowning, and nodding slowly. “Captain, why doesn’t he just leave? He could have left in Nassau, or Salt Key Bank, could have joined up with us again. Why is he staying?”

Ed scoffed and drank deeply. “Fool boy thinks he can win them over, turn them around. Talking to him in Salt Key, he said he thought he’d hit a turning point with the crew, but he also… looked like he hadn’t seen a friendly face in months.”

Hands was still frowning. “Maybe what the crew said was true then. Three of them swore they’d seen Kenway toss two of his crew mates off the side of the tavern, quick as you like. No fight or scuffle. Just Kenway walking up and lifting them over to fall to their deaths.”

It was Ed’s turn to stare. He remembered Kenway’s words _‘Working for Bramah is changing me._ ’ and ‘ _Something happened and the crew treats me different after that_.’ He cleared his throat. “Well, there’s no doubt to me that Hocking has a lot to answer for. I intend to cause him to suffer, even if just a fraction of what he caused for Kenway and for this crew. Then I intend for him to die. I intend for there to be no softness or gentleness, nor any doubt who caused his death. And, well, Mr Hands, I may just need some help to accomplish that.”

The other man met his gaze and nodded slowly. “Yes, Captain. Whatever you need, I and the crew will gladly help.”

The two men stayed in the cabin for a long time after that, Ed describing his plans and Hands offering suggestions.

* * *

When they arrived in Tortuga, the Seafoam was nowhere to be seen, and Ed sent crew to enquire with the Harbourmaster and other ships to find their whereabouts or likely heading. The response came back quickly. The Seafoam had been and gone, and was now heading for Crooked Island where they were meeting with a merchant, before continuing to Nassau.

“If we leave now, me might catch them up, Captain.” They were standing on deck, the crew unloading the cargo they hadn’t been able to sell in Salt Key Bank. Hands looked eager to cast off again.

“No, if we turn right around now, the crew will mutiny. After that abysmal leave in Salt Key, they deserve a little fun. One day. We leave tomorrow noon. We’ll come back for a proper shore leave after our quest is complete.”

Hands nodded and walked off to inform the crew. Ed sauntered off the ship and made his way into the town of Tortuga. His spirits were high, he had Hocking in his sights, a plan to deal with him, his crew at his back. And he no longer felt so worried about Kenway. Whatever had happened on that ship, Kenway had come up ahead, and was now seemingly free to dispose of his crew mates without fear of retaliation. It was time to enjoy himself thoroughly, and Tortuga was just the place for that.

He walked through the streets of the town, passing shops, markets, inns, taverns, and brothels. Eventually the composition of the people on the street around him changed, and with them the air shifted. Here was where a slightly different form of debauchery made a home. All around him were men and women, laughing and drinking. Some women wore breeches and coats, some men wore dresses and stockings, some people wore interesting combinations, and some wore so little they might well be naked.

Ahead up the street stood his destination, the brothel he visited when he wanted to indulge his proclivities thoroughly; _Enculer_. Earlier visits, he had waited until dark and taken long, winding paths to get there. Now it was midday and he was walking straight to his goal. Finally, he didn’t care if he was seen and judged. The people who mattered to him didn’t mind, and for anyone else who took offense… well, they would soon get a demonstration in what happened when you decided to disparage Ed “the Sodomite” Thatch.

* * *

Walking up to the brothel he noticed a house just across. Where there previously had been a nondescript, slightly worn building, was now a bright yellow façade, with green shutters, and curtains and flower boxes at every window. The front door, painted blue, stood open, showing a group of stuffed sofas and chairs, a staircase leading upstairs, and a woman seated behind a counter. Large red letters above the door spelled out _Va te faire foutre_. Ed didn’t know how to describe the place beyond _inviting_.

He walked over to the woman standing outside the _Enculer_. She looked to be on the younger side, slender with smooth skin, clear skin, and a flat chest under her corset. Her powder blue dress cut short in the front to show her stocking-clad legs, her hair was arranged in an elaborate coiffure, and her face covered in white makeup, smearing slightly into her impressive beard.

He gestured towards the yellow building with his thumb. “What’s going on there?”

“Tis a hotel, monsieur. For those who bring their own company, and do not wish to stay at the brothels.”

For people who brought their own company, but still wanted to stay in this particular part of Tortuga. Interesting.

“Are you looking for some company to ease your loneliness, monsieur?” She was batting her lashes at him, and spreading her legs slightly. He smiled warmly at her.

“I am indeed, mademoiselle. But I am hoping to find a specific companion, if he’s available. Do you know if Morgan is here today?”

She nodded, sliding out of her seductive stance. “He’s inside. Should be free, it’s early yet.”

“Thank you, mademoiselle, and may I say, your beard is magnificent. Looks very soft.” 

She smiled and thrust her chin out in invitation to touch. “A little bit of coconut oil when it’s wet and clean. Keeps it soft and silky.” He stroked the proffered hair gently, which was indeed soft and silky, and made a mental note to acquire coconut oil if he ever decided to grow his own beard out further.

Thanking her again, he stepped inside the _Enculer_ and let his eyes adjust to the low light. At the bar sat a tall young man with a messy mop of dark curls bent over a book.

“Morgan.” The youth lifted his head at the sound of his name, looking around for the source. When he spotted Ed, a big smile split his face and he hopped off his stool, walking over with long strides.

“Ed.” His eyes were bright blue and shining in the low candle light. High cheekbones and a straight, unbroken nose gave him almost noble features. Full, warm lips pressed against Ed’s in greeting. “It’s been a long time, I was worried something had happened to you.”

Ed wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and walked them back towards the bar. “It has been too long, Morgan. So I’m here to make up for lost time. Are you available?”

“Of course, it’s early. Hardly anyone in yet.”

“Good, I’d like to purchase your services until tomorrow morning.”

Morgan’s eyes widened, pupils dilating as he licked his lips. “That… that would be lovely. But this is unlike you, Ed. Coming in so early, spending so long. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Aye, quite unlike me, lad. But I’ve had some recent windfall, so tonight is a celebration.

* * *

  
  


By noon the next day, Ed was back on his ship, sailing away from Tortuga and heading for Crooked Island. The little village was only a few days away, and Ed felt sure they would catch up to his former First Mate at the pirate settlement.

They did. As they rounded the last islet and Crooked Island came into view, they saw the Seafoam sitting securely at the dock. Ed gave Hands a look, who walked off to talk to the few crewmen they’d let in on their plan. Ed himself went into his cabin and stayed there until they had docked to prepare. When he exited, he had a deep, troubled frown on his face. His hope was to find Hocking at the tavern, and so made his way there first. 

Luck was on his side again, his former First Mate was seated at a table with some other men and a couple of whores. Hocking spotted him as soon he walked in and gave a look of surprise. Ed returned a relieved, but tired smile, and lifted his hand in greeting before stepping over the barkeep for a drink.

As he waited for the man to pour, Hocking got up from his seat and came over. “Captain Thatch, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Aye, Captain Hocking, I’d bet you are. But I’ve been chasing after you all over the Bahamas, and am frankly relieved to finally catch up. Can I buy you a drink?” He motioned to the barkeep who poured a second mug of rum, and handed it to a confused looking Hocking, and led him to sit at a nearby table.

“You’ve been chasing after me? Whatever for?”

“Well, I’m having some trouble that I need your help with.” The deep frown was back on his face, but broke away for a smile. “But first, tell me about your adventures on the Seafoam. Being Captain is a sight different from First Mate, after all.”

He sat and listened to Hocking talk about his ship and captures, waiting for the man’s curiosity to outweigh his pride and desire to talk about himself. Meanwhile, his own crew were filtering into the tavern, and those in the know made a point to stop by and greet Hocking with enthusiasm. They all sat at nearby tables.

Finally, his curiosity did get the better of him and Hocking stopped telling stories. “Enough about my adventures, why have you been searching for me?”

Ed placed his deep frown back onto his face and shook his head. Lowering his voice, he leaned in to speak. “I’m having trouble with my new First Mate; Israel Hands. He’s just… things are getting missed, bungled. The crew is unhappy with him and it’s beginning to show in their discipline.”

An unseen signal went through the village as their conversation shifted focus, and Hands started his walk from the ship to the tavern.

“You know these men, Captain Hocking, this crew. I need your help to find a new First Mate, one that can do the job proper and keep the crew in line. If I don’t find someone soon, I fear the crew will mutiny.”

He was banking on Hocking’s ego and low opinion of Ed to sell this ruse, and it seemed to be working. The familiar smirk crept back onto Hocking’s lips and he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and eyes glittering with amusement. “Really? That bad, is it?”

“Aye, it is. I have a few names picked out, and I’d hoped we could talk them through together.”

Just then, Hands walked into the tavern and up to the barkeep. The nearby crewmen started muttering and throwing dirty glances at their First Mate. Hocking noticed, his eyes gliding over the men around them and his smirk widened. “Yes, it does seem like you have a bit of a problem. What are the names?”

Ed looked uncomfortable and shifted in his chair, glancing back at Hands where he stood at the bar, shoulders hunched, cradling a tankard. “Can we move this to the Dog? I don’t want to cause more dissent in the ranks by discussing it here where they can hear us.”

Hocking nodded in assent and the two men slid out of their chairs and walked the short distance to the ship. “So you’ve been chasing all around the Bahamas for me? Where did you try?”

“Oh, all over. Nassau, of course. Salt Key Bank. Tortuga most recently. Just left there a couple of days ago” They boarded the ship and stepped into his cabin as they talked. Ed pretended to rifle through papers on his desk, waiting for the subtle thump from outside what signaled the door had been boarded.

“Tortuga? That’s your favourite port, if I’m not mistaken. Lots of _entertainment_ available.” Glittering eyes and smirking lips met Ed as he stopped pretending to search for parchment and looked up at his former First Mate.

Leaning against the desk, he smiled. “Aye, it is, but we didn’t stay more than a day, so there wasn’t much time for entertainment. I did get to spend one night balls deep in a sweet young man, so that’s something at least.”

Hocking looked absolutely shocked that Ed spoke so openly about it, and his nose crinkled. Ed laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, Hocking! You know what I’m like, no need to pretend among friends. You had me pegged right good about that Kenway boy too, didn’t you?” Hocking was clearly uncomfortable, used to damaging secrets being hidden and alluded to so they could be used as leverage.

“Speaking of Kenway. Did you know he joined Bramah’s crew on the Jackobite? It surprised me, that. He’s not the type Bramah prefers on his crew. Strange he would let him join.” Hocking’s smirk was back, it seemed he couldn’t help himself. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” Ed’s jovial, bumbling act was gone now, replaced by a calm, steel-like rage. Hocking’s mouth fell open in surprise, whether real or feigned, Ed didn’t wait to find out. Instead, he punched him suddenly, dropping him to the ground.

Ed pushed him to his back and without further preamble, set one foot on this knee. Leaning down, he picked up Hocking’s foot and jerked it sharply up, breaking the leg at the knee. Hocking screamed in pain and tried to move away, to kick, to grab for his gun, but every movement caused more pain and made his movements uncontrolled and muddled. Ed stepped casually over to his other leg and broke that knee as well.

With the other man overwhelmed by pain, Ed pulled away his weapons and tossed them to the other side of the room. Placing his feet on Hocking’s arms, he squatted down over his captive. The face below him was already streaked with tears and sweat, and Ed grinned wide. “Kenway had some interesting things to tell me when I saw him in Nassau some month’s back. Not only did the crew not seem happy to have him there, but Bramah absolutely loathed having him on the crew. Strange for a Captain that got to choose his crew freely out of all those lost souls in Nassau, to pick one he hated so much. Don’t you think?” Hocking struggled under him, trying to get his hands free, cursing through gritted teeth, and Ed pulled out a knife, pressing it into the soft skin of the man’s exposed throat.

“Kenway told me something else interesting. Bramah seemed to think that my proper name is Sodomite, and that I am a soft and gentle man. Proclaimed to the crew that it was well known Kenway had been my _boy_ there on the Dog, and that meant that Kenway, too, was soft and gentle.” Hocking was clenching his jaw, lips pressed tight, eyes dark with rage. Ed brought the knife up to the tight jawline and sliced the skin open from ear to chin. Hocking screamed and cursed at him, and Ed rested the knife on the chin beneath him.

“Now, I admit. There may be some people out there who know I’m a sodomite. Though I have endeavoured to keep it off the ship, and be discrete in my dealings at port, it is possible some people noticed. You certainly did. But I doubt very much it’s reached the extent where I’m known the seas over as “the Sodomite”, however.” He tapped the knife absently against the chin, hacking into the flesh each time. “But Kenway… now, that really was secret. I never spoke of it. He never told a soul, not even his own, poor Evans. This crew did not know. Yet somehow Bramah knew. Somehow you knew. I’m going to need you to tell me how you knew, Hocking, or it’ll just keep bothering me.”

“You disgusting, fucking, buggerer! You and your fucking catamite will burn in hell!”

Ed sliced the knife down the other jawline and tutted. “Now, now, that’s not nice. Kenway is an adult and has been since long before he came onto my ship.” The blood coated both sides of the man’s throat, and rivulets of sweat and tears flowed over the wounds and made tracks over the blood-smeared skin. “You didn’t answer my question, Hocking. How did you know?” The man kept struggling and tried to spit in Ed’s face, but missed, the slimy glob striking his lapel.“Tell me how you knew, Hocking, or I’ll have to do something to persuade ya.” He just screamed louder, thrashing his body around.

Ed stood up from his crouch and stepped off the arms. Hocking tried to grab him, but Ed danced away from his questing fingers and kicked him in the head. The man’s arms flew up to protect his face, and Ed swooped in, grabbing his hip and shoulder, flipping him over. The jostling movement and hard planks slamming into broken knees, caused Hocking to scream again. It was a long, almost keening sound which ended in harsh, panting breaths.

“How did you know about Kenway?” The curses were muffled against the floor, but made no less colorful. Ed sighed and stepped onto the back of his captive. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, as if he were planning to jump, but relented and leaned down, straightening on Hocking’s arms and setting a heavy boot on the elbow. Realising what was about to happen, Hocking screamed and frantically tried to pull his arm away, but Ed took hold of his wrist and snatched the limb up, listening to the satisfying crack of bone and the screams rising into a crescendo.

He stood, waiting for the screams to die down a little, then he turned, straightening the remaining arm and placed his boot on the elbow. “How did you know about Kenway?”

Hocking was moaning in pain. “No, please, no.”

“How did you know?”

“There’s… there’s a knothole… hole in the floor. I listened… please, no… I listened when he was in here… Sometimes.”

Ed grunted. Well, that explained that. Grabbing the wrist, he yanked the arm up, breaking the other elbow. Hocking howled and cursed, and Ed flipped the broken man back over to squat over him again. “I have a theory, Hocking. D’ya wanna hear it?”

The man was moaning and tossing his head from side to side. Ed grabbed his blooded jaw and forced his head still. “Do ya wanna hear it, Hocking?” Bloodshot eyes, darkly murderous, glared up at him, but no reply came.

“I think you carry a deep hatred inside you for us sodomites. A hatred that prevents you from acting civilised. Live and let live. Instead you go out of your way to make other people’s lives miserable, to make them suffer.” Hocking snorted derisively from beneath him and rolled his eyes. “You believe any man with such leanings is beneath you, and should suffer at your feet. Well, you certainly made sure to make my crew suffer. Ah, in case you haven’t cottoned on yet… It was all a ruse. Hands is a truly excellent First Mate, and all the grumbling up at the tavern was all for show. They’re all outside, listening to your screaming. Basking in your suffering.”

Howling with rage, Hocking thrashed but stopped quickly, the pain from his limbs overwhelming. “I think you wanted to make me suffer like you had the crew, but never could because I’m the captain, and the sway of the First Mate only goes so far. I believe you saw an opportunity with Kenway, the first crewman you’ve ever known me to break my own rules for. You could hurt me through him, and ruin my reputation in the West Indies to boot. So, you conspired with Bramah. Told him tales about me, and about Kenway. Then what? Did you have to bribe him to take Kenway? Or did he agree to join your pathetic quest for vengeance for free?”

Hocking met his eyes with a fierce, almost gleeful graze, and his teeth bared in a red, blooded grin. The kick, the punch, or just biting his cheeks had made him bleed, staining the teeth. “I didn’t _have_ to bribe him. Bramah’s ship is just as full of fucking sodomites as this heap of shit is. Difference is, they’re not soft, timid little ladies. They want a challenge, someone to break. Bramah usually picks up some soft soul for them on the way out of port. I just spared him the search.” Hocking laughed and spat blood. “They’ve already killed that disgusting little catamite of yours. They beat him into submission, took turns to rape him until he died, and threw his mangled corpse into the sea. You’ll never see him again.”

Ed smiled widely down at his captive. “Are you sure about that? ‘Cause I just saw Kenway back at Salt Key Bank a few weeks ago, and he seemed just fine to me. Well… there was a slight disagreement between him and a couple of his crew mates at the tavern… But he just killed them, right then and there. Shut the rest of them up good. Seems to me, he’s got that crew firmly under his boot, and whatever fate you had hoped for him is just a fantasy.”

Hocking cursed and spat again, but Ed just laughed and pulled the knife back out. He slid it through the fabric of the man’s clothes, cutting them off. “I’m gonna need you naked for this next part, Hocking.” His captive’s eyes went comically wide, and he thrashed wildly, mindless of his broken limbs. Ed finished cutting the clothes and grabbed the man’s chin roughly. “I’m deeply offended by your implications here, Hocking. You should know by now that I like my men willing and handsome, with bright eyes, high cheekbones, and lush, plump lips. And you, sir, have precisely none of those qualities. I wouldn’t touch you even if you begged. Even without your repugnant actions against me and mine, I would never have deigned to stoop to such a low level as to lay with a pitiful excuse for a man like you.”

Hocking seemed to calm slightly, but his eyes still stared widely around, trying to figure out what, if not _that_ , he needed to be naked for. Pushed up against the wall next to the door stood a chest, which Hands and the crew had prepared and placed in earlier. Ed opened the lid and turned back to Hocking. He scooped the man up and placed him inside. His neck bent awkwardly against the side, arms, legs, and buttocks hanging out. Hocking screamed in pain.

“Oh dear, too small. No matter, I can fix that.” He lifted Hockings legs high and pushed down, trying to get the lower back to bend into the tight space. When he didn’t work, he stepped into the chest, standing low on Hocking’s abdomen, and jumped. The sound of cracking bone bounced off the wall, and the lower back bent to let the buttocks slide down into the chest.

Hocking screamed louder than before, but Ed smelled the urine pouring into the chest. A tell tale sign that the spine had broken and all control or sensation of the lower body was lost. Shame it lessened Hocking’s pain, but it couldn’t be helped. Pushing at the legs again, he folded them up towards the head, bending the broken knees and slotted the shins in next to the torso. Stuffing the arms in, he looked at Hocking, a nightmarish jumble of limbs bent in impossible directions, eyes staring blankly ahead.

Walking over to his desk, he pondered where a man like Hocking escaped to inside his mind when reality got too tough. Pulling out a drawer, he fished around for the sewing kit he kept there. Last time he used it was patching up Kenway’s wounds. He realised he’s never checked how they’d healed and made a mental note to look next time they saw each other. Putting down the kit on the desk, he rummaged through Hocking’s cut clothing and pulled out the drawstring from his breeches. Coiling it up, he placed it on the desk as well.

“Hocking! Wake up, Hocking! We’re not finished yet!” He tapped the butt of his knife against the chest near his captive’s head until Hocking’s eyes slid into focus. “Don’t know if you noticed in all the commotion, but we set sail shortly after you stepped on the ship. I’m taking you to Nassau, see? I’ll be letting you out of the chest there, and putting you in one of the gibbets. I want to show all of our brethren just how soft and gentle I am. The crew and I will try our best to keep you alive until then, but… well, hard to make promises in these unpredictable waters. Now, just one last thing before you and I are finished.”

Brandishing the knife, he stood at the end of the chest and looked down at Hocking’s exposed member and sack. Because of his position in the chest, Hocking was facing his own crotch and had a clear, close up view of Ed’s hand taking hold of his bits. “Now, this won’t hurt of course, what with your broken back, but it’s the principle of the thing.” He sliced through the flesh and blood sprayed, splattering over the torso and face of his captive, and Hocking’s eyes slid out of focus again.

Turning to the desk, he put down the severed flesh and held the knife over the nearest candle flame. When it was hot enough, he brought it back to the chest, pressing it to the wound he’d created, searing the flesh and stopping the bleeding. Ed turned back to the desk, picking up the sewing kit and pulling out needle and thread. Leaning casually against the desk, he began to sew together the member and shaft carefully.

“Next time I run into Kenway, I’m going to convince him to come to Tortuga with me. There’s a nice hotel there where we can rent a room, so we can be alone for hours, for days if we want. We’ve never gotten to really relax and take our time together. And that’s something I really want to do. Just between you and me, I really like that young man. Probably a lot more than he likes me.” He finished sowing and picked up the string, threading his creation on. Walking over to the chest, he tied the sting around Hocking’s neck, laying his bits carefully on his chest. “You know, I’ve never gotten to see that beautiful man properly naked. Never felt him clench around my member. It just won’t stand. I need to show him how beautiful and special he is, and how good I can make him feel. And I need to do it before my time is up. Lord only knows how long any of us have left on this earth.”

With that he closed the lid and turned to the door, knocking twice. The door opened and Hands entered the cabin. “Is it done, Captain?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is he… alive?”

“Of a sort, aye.”

Two crewmen stepped inside and picked up the chest, carrying it outside to set it on the deck. Ed pulled off his coat and shirt, stepping over to the washbasin to rid himself of the blood on his hands.

“Did you learn anything interesting?”

“Hm… not really. Seems to be just like we suspected. Not much depth or complexity to the man, I’m afraid. He did tell me there’s a knothole in the floor somewhere. Apparently, he’s been using it to listen in on the goings on in here. Find it, will you?” Hands nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, and send in someone to mop up the blood and piss. Reeks in here.”

* * *

Ed and Hands informed the full crew of what had transpired after the chest was placed outside on the deck, and gave strict instructions that no one was allowed to do anything to speed up Hocking’s death. Several times per day, grog or sometimes broth was poured into Hocking’s mouth to prevent thirsting to death on the journey to Nassau. Ed could tell that several of his crew were uncomfortable with Hocking’s presence, but the rest - especially those he had treated so poorly - took pleasure in seeing their former tormentor suffer. They would visit the chest, opening the lid to deliver taunts or spit and piss onto the man inside.

Over the next several days, Hocking seemed to float in and out of consciousness. Long periods of quiet were interrupted by angry howls and curses, or pleads for God or the crew to release him. As time passed however, he seemed to become more disoriented, and the howls of rage were replaced by screams of terror, or pleading questions of where he was and what was happening.  
In the end, he only called for his mother.  
A few days out of Nassau, he stopped making any sounds at all.

As Hocking grew more delirious, the visits from the crewmen became fewer and fewer, and when the calls for his mother started, the entire crew were visibly upset and stayed as far away from the chest as their duties would permit. Even Ed felt the occasional stab of sympathy for his captive, but reminded himself of the fate Hocking had tried to arrange for Kenway, and kept his resolve.

He could, of course, have made it easier on the crew. Cut Hocking’s tongue and vocal chords so he couldn’t speak at all, stuff him deep down in a corner of the hold out of sight and mind until they reached Nassau. But Ed didn’t want to spare them. He wanted to make it clear to everyone what happens when Ed Thatch was crossed. He was well aware that some other captains thought him a touch too kind hearted at times, though not to the extent of Bramah. They took his view that privateering and piracy were a business, not an excuse for heedless violence, as proof that he could not, would not be ruthless. But Ed knew that if you minimize the death toll, took only so much that the crew could make it to port, maybe even let them keep some to sell, then they would return to be pirated another day. The more shipping companies thought it was a risk it was a risk worth taking, the more cargo there would be to seize on these seas. In Ed’s opinion, that didn’t make him kind hearted, it made him canny.

But it seemed the time had come to prove himself to all of Nassau and beyond.  
They wanted violence? Well, they would be getting it now, and he hadn’t had to kill a single innocent civilian to do it.

* * *

They sailed into Nassau in the early afternoon, and Ed saw the cove was full of ships. Hornigold, Kidd, and to his surprise, even Bramah with his Jackobite. It was a clear, beautiful day, but his crew were sullen and heavy in spirit as they loaded the chest into the rowboat and took it to shore. Taking a separate boat, Ed stood up proud and tall as his crewmen rowed him to shore, a fierce scowl on his face as he walked up to Hands, who stood waiting by the chest underneath the gibbet. His scowl mirrored on his First Mate’s face.

Ed could see the Old Avery in the distance, full of people, and what looked to be Ben standing there talking to someone he couldn’t see. He nodded at his crewmen, who lowered the gibbet down before opening the chest. A few onlookers had ventured closer to see what they were doing, and some shouted out in shock and disgust as they saw the violently, impossibly contorted body in the chest. He did not look away as Hocking was pulled - with some difficulty - out of the chest and put into the gibbet. He couldn’t tell if the man was still alive, not that it really mattered anymore.

Around them, he could hear the murmuring of a crowd forming, and in the distance, running steps and faint shouts. Word of their captive was spreading through the town like fire. As his crew hoisted and secured the gibbet, he heard heavy boots running up followed by Ben’s shocked voice. “Good God, man! Is that Hocking?!”

Ed turned to his friend, scowl still firm on his face. “Aye, that’s Hocking.”

Ben’s eyes were wide with surprise and dismay. “Did ya really have to…?”

“Aye, Ben, I really did.”

Behind Hornigold, stopped some ways from the crowd stood Kenway. Face shocked and pale as he stared at the gibbet swinging gently in the bright sun. Ed walked over to him, the crowd parting like the sea for Moses. “Hey there, Kenway. You and I need to have a word, come with me. Nodding silently, Kenway followed, glancing back at the gibbet several times. Ed led them to the nearest inn and let a room. Kenway didn’t speak, but blushed slightly as Ed made the transaction and led them up the stairs and into the room.

Inside, Kenway stood by the door, arms crossed, shoulder hunched. As Ed sat in a chair he saw the young man glance at the bed and then down at his feet. But this room, paltry as it was, had two chairs, and Ed grabbed the other one, sliding it over the floor to Kenway. He grabbed the chair’s back, but didn’t sit.

“I need to tell you some things I learned in the last few months, and I doubt you want the crowds out there to hear some of it. So, we’re in here. To talk.”

Kenway nodded slowly and sat down. “That, out there… that was Hocking?”

“Aye, son, that was Hocking. Turns out, he was not a good man. I need to apologize to you, just like I’ve apologized to the rest of my crew who suffered under that man while he was my First Mate.”

After Ed’s first talk with Hands, he had asked to see the crew most affected by Hocking’s actions as First Mate, to hear of their experiences and offer his apologies. What he heard during those meetings filled him with shame. His ship wasn’t very large, but it had still managed to house a seedy underbelly of terror and fear. As Hands had told him, Hocking was subtle about his manipulation, but it resulted in the crew not trusting each other or even themselves. Everyone was suspicious of everyone else, tensions always ran high, and fights broke out over nothing. No one could ever just rest and trust that their comrades would be there to help. 

Using corporal punishment for even the smallest infraction had the crew walking on eggshells, but as Hocking also encouraged telling on ones crewmates, and would reward the informant by letting them escape punishment, innocent men were beaten and whipped at the word of men wanting nothing but to escape the torture themselves. The First Mate was supposed to inform the Captain of all infractions that required corporal punishment, but Hocking very rarely had. To Ed, he had put up a front of a smoothly efficient crew, with very rare instances of problems. The crew, naturally, didn’t dream of telling Ed different as they believed he was already in the know.

As Ed told Kenway all of this, the young man relaxed his body, but his face was sad and drawn. “I suspect that this is where his fixation on you came from.”

Kenway looked surprised. Ed hadn’t yet gotten to the part of the story that concerned the two of them.N“His fixation on _me_?”

“Aye. Hocking knew about the two of us, and he did _not_ approve. Part of it was his deeply rooted, absolute loathing for anyone he thought were a sodomite. But another part I think, was his fear that if you and I became too close, you would tell me the true condition of the crew, and his empire would crumble.”

“He knew?” Ed could see understanding, relief, and confusion wash over Kenway’s face.

“Aye, he knew. There was a knothole in the floor of my cabin that he used to spy on me, on us.” The other man’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “When we came to Nassau after the treaty, before he were given his own ship to Captain, he sought out Bramah with the purpose of punishing us both. Hocking knew of my leanings, but also knew that I never indulge with my crew, so he concluded that made you special to me. Hurting you wouldn’t just be punishing a Godless sodomite, it would also be punishing the weak willed, soft and gentle sodomite Hocking had been forced to serve under for years.”

Kenway looked at him, eyes wide and bright, but Ed plowed on, not wanting to sully any declaration to Kenway with the rest of his story. “Bramah’s crew are brutes, as you well know. He chooses the most violent, sadistic, ruthless men he can find. I thought it strange he agreed to take you on, I should have been clearer with you about my reservations about him and his crew. I’m sorry. But, Hocking knew this, and also knew that Bramah usually takes a young man onto his ship just before departing. The purpose is entertainment for his crew. They beat and rape the boy to death. For entertainment. That’s why you were on that ship. Hocking asked Bramah to take you as the entertainment. He did it so you would die suffering, and in a way that would maximize my hurt as well. I don’t know how you managed to survive that ship, son, I really don’t. I think you’re the first one to ever do that.”

Ed stopped talking and looked at Kenway, who was sitting with his head in his hands. He wished they had some bottles to drink. This really wasn’t a sober kind of conversation, but it hadn’t seemed appropriate to stop and acquire bottles on the way to the inn.

Kenway let out a long, shuddering breath. “That sure explains a lot. It’s been hard, so hard. Some of it was familiar though. The insults, the not ever being able to do anything right, the punishments for nothing. I thought that was normal. I had that under Hocking, and under Dozell, my first Captain. But the groping, the touches, the suggestions and threats, the waking up in the middle of the night with a hand… That was new.” He paused, rubbing his palms together, probably wishing he, like Ed wished, had a bottle in his hands.

“Hands told me you killed two of your crew at the tavern in Salt Key Bank. Was that the change, the turning point you spoke of?”

Kenway shook his head and took a deep breath. “It was just after we’d captured a small schooner. The take was pitiful, not worth the effort. Bramah was angry, the crew irritated. I guess they decided it was time for their entertainment. Two of the worst of the lot carried me to the crew quarters and tried to make me… The crew was standing all around us, cheering, calling turns. I figured if I was going to die, I’d take as many of them with me as I could. Was filled with rage and strength I didn’t know I had. Bit the… I lifted one of them clean off his feet and slammed his head onto a hook on the wall. He hung there, dead. The other I… I crushed his skull and smeared his head all over the floor. The whole crew was there, standing around us, none of them stopped me. No one else wanted to fight. All my time on that ship, Bramah had complained that I was soft and timid. Not beating or torturing needlessly. Forced me to watch, to do, but it was never enough, and I refused to do anything like that unless forced. Now though, I was mad, Thatch, crazy. Kept asking him if he was happy, if he was proud of me. But he just walked away and the crew dispersed. I was left alone after that.”

Ed let out a low whistle. “Sounds like they pushed you right up to your breaking point and suffered the consequences. But can we agree now, that you should not be on that ship? Just leave them and come back to the Sea Dog. Or join Ben, or Kidd, or _anyone_ else.”

Kenway grimaced. “Well… it’s, it’s better now. Bramah is a shit, but the crew respects me now, it’s alright now, you know?”

“Dammit to hell, Kenway! I just told you they kidnap and rape young men to death! For entertainment!”

Kenway grimaced again. “They’re not doing that now, and if they’d tried, I’d sink the ship with all hands before I let them go through with it. Besides, Thatch, my original reason stands. I need to be feared and respected, not seen as timid and soft. You understand that, I know you do.” Ed opened his mouth to protest, but Kenway cut him off. “Come on! You could have just killed Hocking quick and quiet, but you brought him all the way here to Nassau to make a showing of it. You’re telling me that wasn’t to push back against his and Bramah’s talk about you being soft? It’s _all_ just to avenge how poorly he used to treat your crew, _is it_? ‘Cause, Thatch, you’re gonna have to put up a sign if you want _that_ point across.”

Ed gave a small, tired smile and shook your head. “Aye, you’re right. But I just don’t like you on that ship. I’d prefer you be somewhere I can keep an eye on you. Somewhere with people I trust.”

Kenway pursed his lips. “I’m not actually your _boy_ , Thatch, you know that. That was just Bramah’s talk. You can’t _keep_ me anywhere.” Ed cringed and nodded his head.

They sat quietly, letting the previous conversation settle. After a while, Kenway slapped him lightly on the knee. “So, I’m special to you, am I? Made you break your own rules?”

Kenway was grinning at him, eyes bright again. Ed fought a blush and a smile, but nodded. “Aye, Edward, you’re special to me.”

“Ah, Thatch, you’re gonna make me blush.” Kenway’s voice was teasing as he stood up and stepped into the vee of Ed’s legs, making him look up. “But I’m glad. You’re special to me too.”

The young man bent down for a kiss, but Ed stopped it before it could deepen. “I… ah… I don’t think I can just now. With Hocking, and I still have to tell Ben. He’ll be livid I made him wait. Perhaps later tonight? Or tomorrow? When are you leaving?”

Kenway smiled and pecked his lips before stepping away to his chair again. “The plan was for the day after tomorrow, but Bramah might change that after seeing your stunt.”

Ed nodded and stared at his boots. “Where’ you headed?”

“The plan is to circle Cuba, maybe follow the coast of the mainland for a bit.”

Ed sighed heavily and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Dammit. I had really hoped you’d leave Bramah and come back to my crew. I wanted to take you to Tortuga. There’s a place there I wanted to show you. Thought we could finally get to spend some _time_ , instead of just rushing through.”

Kenway grinned and licked his lips. “Time, huh?”

“Aye, time.”

“How about we go there after I return from this loop around Cuba?”

“Mmm… that’s a plan. Well, I best find Ben before he gives me up for dead.”

  
  


* * *

They walked out of the room and up to the tavern where he found Hornigold waiting impatiently. Grabbing some bottles, he led Ben back to the room, and retold the story a second time. By the time he was done, it was dark outside and they were both a bit drunk. “Jaysus, Ed. That’s some mess you had to clean up. Can’t say I fault you for what you did, but I’m glad it didn’t fall on me to do.” Ed nodded and drank. 

There was a knock at the door and Kenway stepped in. “Evenin’. Ah… Ben, do you think I could have a word with Thatch alone?”

Hornigold nodded and stood up, and Ed watched him grab the back of Kenway’s head, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re a fool, Kenway. You should leave that fucking ship and join mine or Ed’s crew. You’ll get your own ship in the fleet as soon as one comes available.”

Kenway smirked. “You become so sweet and considerate when you drink, Ben. Like my mam.” Ben snorted and walked out, closing the door behind him. Kenway’s smile fell a bit as he turned to Ed. “I was right in thinking Bramah might speed up our departure. We’re leaving now.”

Ed shot to his feet. “Now! But…”

Kenway grabbed him and glanced down his body before pulling him close. “I don’t have time for _anything_ , but I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Ed felt the young man crush him into a tight hug, and he hugged back just as hard. For a moment, each man had his face buried in the other’s neck, taking deep breaths. Then Kenway pulled away and kissed Ed deeply. The moment broke too quickly, and Kenway pulled away. “Don’t forget, you’re taking me to Tortuga next time!”

Then he was gone out the door with the flash of a smile.

  
  
  


It would be a long time before Ed saw him again.

  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, we’re catching up to the start of the game now. (and yes, kenway is such a dumbass)
> 
> Anyway, I have some end notes (of the chapter, the story is not done).
> 
> ***
> 
> Ok, so that was very violent and disgusting. With Hocking being a homophobe, a narcissist, a bully, etc, it felt a bit cathartic to write this, but also after this and chapter four, I feel quite unclean. I’m going to aim for the rest of the story to be more lovin’ and less (if any at all) violence.
> 
> And just so there are no misunderstandings, though it can be somewhat cathartic to write about... You can’t try this at home with your own homophobes and narcissists. You will just end up in prison and/or in a psych ward. 
> 
> ***
> 
> I think the text in the beginning about being peaceful is a mangled version of a poem, but I’m honestly not sure. I’ve had that written in my notes for a long time and I can’t remember where I got it from. If you know, please tell me so I can credit it properly.
> 
> ***
> 
> I don’t speak French, sadly, so I googled a little for some good rude words and phrases to use for the inn and brothel in Tortuga. I may have gotten it all wrong, if so, I apologize. My intentions were good.
> 
> The inn in Tortuga is called “Va te faire foutre” = Go fuck yourself  
> The brothel Thatch visits is called “Enculer” = Fuck (or Assfuck maybe?)
> 
> ***
> 
> I was googling for old-timey words/slurs for gay, to prevent too many repeatings of sodomite, and found that buggerer is quite old and thus usable. But I also found catamite, which meant young boy/man kept by a pederast. So, not only is Hocking accusing Thatch of being a pedo (meaning Kenway is too young to be an adult and consent), he is also victim-blaming Kenway.  
> Real piece of work this guy. I’m glad he’s dead.
> 
> But seriously kids, don’t try this torture at home!


	7. Interlude - Longing or Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been many months since he’d last seen Kenway, and Ed was more than a little worried. Not so much as a whisper had reached him about Bramah, the Jackobite, or any of her crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only a little interlude, but better than continued silence. :)

* * *

It had been many months since he’d last seen Kenway, and Ed was more than a little worried. Not so much as a whisper had reached him about Bramah, the Jackobite, or any of her crew. Early on, he had thrown himself into pirating to take his mind off the worry of Kenway staying under Bramah’s boot. They made several successful runs from Nassau to Tortuga and back. Each time he gave the crew several days of shore leave, and made sure to spend plenty of time with Morgan and his _friends_. But after a little more than six months of running hard, his crew was exhausted, his ship in need of an overhaul, and the gnawing worry in his stomach had grown too large to ignore. They turned back to Nassau for an extended stay. 

This time, instead of paying for a decrepit and depressing little room, he asked around and found a small, unused house near the mansion. It was nothing more than a shack, really, but it was in a calm area and, with the help of some gold, it had a comfortable bed, some proper furniture, even a nice stuffed armchair. Despite being so small, the house had a little porch, on which Ed placed a couple of chairs so he could sit and enjoy the soft evening breeze, or feed the roaming chickens. There was a brothel nearby for when he got lonely, and he made frequent visits to the tavern, but mostly he relished the solitude after so many months on the cramped, crowded ship.  
  


James Kidd showed up a few weeks after he’d settled in. He brought news that a pirate matching Kenway’s description had been apprehended in Havana, and imprisoned on a treasure fleet to Seville for sentencing. According to Kidd’s sources, the fleet had encountered a hurricane and sank with all hands. They stayed late at the tavern that night, drinking and toasting Kenway, but in the early morning, Ed had enough and staggered back to his little house, and fell into bed.

For the next several weeks, he was morose and irritable, keeping mostly to himself, drinking on his porch. He never said much, but inside he was struggling, swinging between mourning his friend and not believing him dead at all. A pirate ‘fitting Kenway’s description’ did not mean it was actually Kenway, but if the man was still alive, why hadn’t he shown up yet?

His thoughts circled round and round, as he sat on his porch late into the evening. A shadow stepped out from between the buildings and into the circle of torch light by Thatch’s house. It was Antonia, one of his favored whores on the island. She was greek and looked like she might have been one of their goddesses in a past life. Dark shining hair, clear olive skin, plump generous lips, and high cheekbones made her beautiful, but what set her apart for Ed were her eyes. They were a vivid ocean blue, exactly like Kenway’s were.

Had been.

“Ed. It is not good that you stay all alone, being sad.” Her voice was soft and melodious, the thick accent adding to her charm and character.

“Well, Antonia, I am sad and being around the others isn’t helping with that.” Ordinarily, he would never speak so gruffly to her, but he was drunk and hurting.

She stepped on to the porch and stood in front of him. “You miss him, your Kenway. It is ok, he was a better man than most here. But you should not be alone. Grief should be shared. You need to be with those who understand, who miss him too.”

Ed snorted and stared at his feet. “An’ who would that be? All the others shrugged and moved on. ‘Part of bein’ a pirate’ they say.” A soft hand stroked over his cheek and pulled his chin up. She was looking at him with a sad smile. “You?”

“Many of the ladies of this town are sad to lose Kenway. He was… hm… not selfish? Made a good name for himself. I had him several times. Kind and generous man.” Ed put his bottle down and wrapped his arms around her waist, hiding his face in her soft stomach. “It is not true that it is just ‘part of being a pirate’. When good people die, we should miss them… hm… mourn them, and remember them. Not pretend they never lived at all.” Her hand cupped his neck, and the other stroked his hair, while they stayed there for several long minutes. “He really liked you, your Kenway. You should take joy from having your feelings returned, even if only for a short time. Not everyone will be so lucky.”

Ed pulled away and looked at her. “He told you that? What did he say?”

“He did tell me, yes. But that is my fond memory of him, and I will keep it for myself.”   
She stood in the vee of his legs and cupped his face, looking down at him with Kenway’s eyes. “Ed. Let us go inside and make each other happy for a little while.”  
  


* * *

Thatch’s shack:

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this fic follows canon. It's just poor Thatch who doesn't know what the canon is.


	8. Alive and well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After almost ten months of not only not seeing Kenway, but not hearing a single whisper from anyone, he had resigned himself to the loss of his friend. 
> 
> But there he stood, alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antionia is speaking greek and says; γλυκέ μου (gliké mu) = my sweet

* * *

_I thought you had died, but you came back to me._

* * *

A loud banging on the shack door woke Ed and he sat up groggily. “Aye, I’m comin’. Keep it down.”

Ben stood outside, scowling impatiently. “Jaysus wept, you look like shit, Thatch.”

“Thanks mate. You _did_ wake me. What do you want?”

Ben ignored his question and kicked the door frame. “Why are you holed up in this hovel?”

Ed sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, leaving the door open as he turned back into the room and pulled on his clothes. “Wanted something different than the decrepit little rooms with parchment walls at the inn. Needed some peace and quiet.” He pulled out two bottles and handed one off to his guest. Grabbing a piece of stale bread, he stepped outside and sat on the porch. “Also, this place has a porch. And grass. And chickens. Don’t get that on a ship.”

Ben snorted and sat down next to him. They sat together in silence for a while, watching the birds peck at the ground. “Is it Kenway? I heard about Kidd’s rumor.”

“Is it Kenway, what? That I’m staying in this shack over the inn?”

Ben groaned and took a swig from his bottle. “No, you pillock. Is that boy the reason you’ve been holed up in this shack for weeks, hardly ever leaving and never speaking more than a word to anyone.”

Ed didn’t answer and instead threw some crumbs from his bread at the chickens. Ben sighed and stood up. Ed knew him well enough to see the signs of his friend gearing up for a speech, and groaned inwardly. Here came the chastising and the ‘it’s part of being a pirate’ drivel. “You know, I heard at the tavern what Kidd had said, and I don’t buy it. His sources seem mighty suspect to me. Not pirates, but some ‘associates’ he can’t talk about. So, no one who’s ever actually met Kenway. And why would he be in Havana? In the open, as a pirate. That boy is reckless, but he’s no fool.”   
Ben was pacing the grass in front of the porch, scaring off the birds. Ed stared at him in open mouth shock. Everyone here insisted Kenway was dead and that Ed needed to cheer up and move on, and Ben was the last person he’d thought would say any different. “Why is there no word of Bramah or his crew? If the Jackobite got captured, shouldn’t the news be about him, not of _one_ of his crew? Makes no sense.”

“Maybe Kenway finally wised up and left that ship behind?”, Ed supplied.

“And trotted off to Havana for no good reason?” Ben snorted and drank more of the wine. “No, not our Kenway. Besides, even if he did and was captured and put on a ship, you think he’d just stay there, like a good little boy? He was a good fighter and a sneaky devil even before joining Bramah’s crew. No chance he got worse at it staying with them. No, if you ask me, Kenway is still alive and well. Either still with Bramah, or, if he _was_ captured, laying low somewhere until they stop looking for their escaped prisoner. Sod all these pillocks for believing anything less than that of him, without any credible proof at all!” Ben stopped pacing and stood still for a moment, looking almost surprised he wasn’t sitting in his chair.

Ed gave him a wry smile and raised his bottle. “Thank you, Ben. To Kenway, the canny little devil. Wherever he may be.”

Ben raised his own bottle in return. “Now, come on to the tavern. We have some things to discuss about our Republic.”

* * *

Turns out a shipload of soldiers had arrived just two days before, and were tearing through the town trying to ‘arrest’ people, and generally causing trouble. All of which Ed had missed, holed up in his little shack. He set about organizing resistance and ‘releasing’ prisoners with Ben, and after about a week, the soldiers knew their place, keeping mostly to ‘patrolling’ the more deserted areas, and intervening in violent domestic disputes. Every now and then though, their commander would emerge from his hideyhole in the fort and walk through the town barking orders at the soldiers to ‘round up’ the pirates and berate them for not already having ‘liberated’ the place. As if one shipload of soldiers were enough to take on all the hundreds of armed and angry pirates in Nassau. Now more than ever, Ed felt sympathy for the poor sods who were only trying to follow their impossible orders without losing their lives.

Kidd showed up again and added some men to help in the resistance and liberation efforts. The lad somehow managed to sneak into the fort and spy on the commander, learning that there were no reinforcements coming for the foreseeable future, much to the commander’s chagrin. This was good news as they didn’t have to try and muster defenses against a full scale attack. Yet. 

Ed also admitted to himself that he didn’t entirely mind the soldiers interfering in some of the violent altercations around town. He wanted a republic free of King and clergy, and the oppressive yoke of arbitrary social rules, but that did not mean he wanted a place where men could rape and beat women to death in the streets, just ‘cause that man was feeling a bit irate or hornery just at that moment. Not that he would say that out loud. He doubted even Ben would side with him if he proposed policing and punishing their citizens. 

* * *

A fortnight after the soldiers arrived, Kenway returned.

Early that morning, the commander had thrown another tantrum and so several men had been rounded up and ‘held’. Ed was walking with Ben along the shore, reminding the soldiers who really were in charge in Nassau, when an unfamiliar ship slid into the bay.

Ed had just finished intimidating a young soldier pup into running away, when Ben whistled beside him and motioned to the unknown ship. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s Kenway.”

Ed turned and squinted at the bright sunlight reflecting off the water. There, standing by the railing of the unfamiliar ship, stood Kenway, hand raised in greeting. He raised his hand in return, and felt a strange, dizzying numbness roll over him. It was almost like seeing a ghost. Despite Ben’s assurance that Kenway was too canny to be dead, Ed hadn’t really believed him, he realized now. After almost ten months of not only not seeing Kenway, but not hearing a single whisper from anyone, he had resigned himself to the loss of his friend. 

But there he stood, alive.

Ben slapped him on the back and pushed him towards the tavern. Hornigold walked straight up to the barkeep and got himself a tankard, he also ordered a shot of straight rum and pushed it into Ed’s hand. “Drink that and pull yourself together, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

They stood together and waited for Kenway to join them. Ed watched as the young man came into view on the street below. He looked different somehow, and it wasn’t just the fancy new robes he wore. No, he was walking taller, back straight and head held high. Confident and at ease. As he ascended the steps to the tavern, Ed turned away and grabbed them drinks from the barkeep. He felt ridiculous, torn between scolding the man for staying away for so long, and pulling him into an embrace to reassure himself the young man really was there. He pushed the feelings down and avoided looking at Kenway as he handed him his drink, focusing instead on the man he’d brought with him.

* * *

Kenway didn’t even stay to finish his drink, but left with his Quartermaster to secure crew and supplies for the repairs of his ship. After he and Adéwalé left, the crew of the Jackdaw started filtering in, and with them came the stories of their madman Captain, who had escaped his bonds and snuck around on all the ships in the Treasure Fleet, killing soldiers and freeing pirates, and then stealing a brig right under the noses of the soldiers. And if that wasn’t enough, in their daring escape, their Captain ran them straight into a hurricane, and somehow managed to steer them safely through, even when all other ships in the fleet sank with all hands.

Ben whistles, impressed. “I must admit, that’s more than I thought even Kenway was capable of. But if anyone could pull something like that off, it’s him.” He turned to Kidd, and called tauntingly. “Teach you to underestimate Kenway!”

The youth gestured rudely back at Ben, and Ed laughed. The mood at the tavern was festive, and then Kenway returned in the early evening, the atmosphere turned positively jolly. There was drinking, dancing, laughing, and lots of trading of stories. Kenway was in his customary position with a girl on his lap and a hand up her skirts, but so were most of them tonight.

Antonia joined them after an hour or so, and had given Kenway a lingering kiss before settling on Ed’s lap. She made him tell her the story of Kenway’s daring escape, but the crew soon took over and told it properly, leaving Ed to quietly enjoy the woman in his lap and sneak occasional glances at Kenway. He seemed in his element. Almost giddy with pride of being a _Captain_ , and having the admiration and respect of his crew to boot. The young man practically radiated _life_ and Ed sat and basked in the glow.

* * *

Around midnight, Ed started to yawn. He had felt the nervous, anxious tension slowly seep out of him all through the day since Kenway returned, and now his body demanded sleep, to recover from the exhaustion of being _worried_ for ten months straight.

He patted Antonia on the thigh to urge her off his lap. “It’s time for me to turn in, love. Off you hop.”

She stood up, but remained close as he rose out of his chair. “I’ll walk with you, γλυκέ μου.”

He bid the other patrons goodbye, and glanced at Kenway with a fond smile. The young man was kissing the girl on his lap deeply, and judging by her squirming and the high pitched moans that escaped their kiss, he was helping her scratch an itch.

Antonia hooked her arm in his, and together they walked leisurely towards his house. “Your Kenway is alive. This must make you very happy.”

“Aye, it does.”

“But you would have liked if he had come to you, instead of choosing that girl.”

Ed chuckled at her forwardness. “After the harrowing adventure he’s had, how can anyone blame him for wanting a warm, willing, pretty lass in his lap and his bed? I’m just glad he’s alive.”

She hummed and pursed her lips. “Yet you left so early.”

This time he laughed out loud. “Antonia, dear, you are forgetting that I am an old man. It’s not early for _me_. It’s late and I am very tired.”

They had reached his house and stood by the porch. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Ed rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah, no, thank you. I really am tired. Dead on my feet. I’m sorry for taking up all your time tonight.” He fumbled with his coin purse but she stopped his hands. 

“Do not worry, γλυκέ μου. Tonight was celebrating Kenway’s… hm… his return to life. Not work.” She kissed him goodnight and disappeared into the shadows. Ed went inside and kicked off his boots. A series of wide yawns wracked his body as he stripped down to his smalls, and climbed into bed. 

He was asleep within seconds.

* * *

Two thumps made him stirr, and the clattering of swords in the floor shot him into a sitting position, fumbling with the sheet trapping his legs. Mumbled curses came from the darkness, and before he could get his legs free, a body was moving into his lap, pushing him back into the bed.

Kenway’s warm, rum-soaked breath washed over his face before a bristly, off-center kiss touched the corner of his mouth. “Thatch…” His name came out as a long, drawn out moan, and he felt Kenway grind his hips down as another sloppy kiss fell on his jaw.

“Evenin’ Kenway.” 

He heard a growl and felt a bite on his neck. “Not Kenway. Edward. Jaysus, I missed you, Thatch.”

Ed took hold of the head buried in his neck and lifted it, bringing the soft shell of an ear to his lips. “Edward.” His voice came out rough with sleep, and he felt the young man’s hips stutter against his in response, accompanied by another long moan. Ed pulled their lips together for a deep kiss and spread his legs a bit, letting Edward lay between them, grinding and rolling his hips. Edward broke the kiss and pushed his face into Ed’s neck again, rutting frantically. After no time at all, he groaned his release and dropped his full weight on top of Ed.

Just a moment later, Edward chuckled and pushed himself up on all fours. “Do you have a lantern or candle we could light? I want to see you.”

Ed took hold of his hips and moved the young man to the side. “Sure, just let me up.” 

He found the lantern on the table and lit it. When he turned back, Edward was standing next to the bed, pulling off his soiled trousers, shooting Ed an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve just been holding it in all night. With that girl on my lap, I’ve been stiff and aching for hours. Couldn’t take it anymore.”

Ed felt a little stunned. “You didn’t?” He snorted. “ _Come on_. When I left she was moaning her release into your mouth.”

Edward grinned and walked over, placing his hands on Ed’s waist. “Yes, she was. I have a reputation to uphold among the ladies, you know. They _like_ me, because I _always_ tend to their needs.”

Ed snorted again. “You mean to tell me you’ve been away for god knows how long, and when coming back you only gave to the whores, but taking nothing in return? Just saving yourself for me?”

It was Edward’s turn to snort. “Jaysus no. I went straight to the brothel after we met at the tavern. Couldn’t just have dragged you off in the middle of the day. And also, you know… Women…”

They grinned at each other. “Aye, lad. _Women_.”

“Now…” Edward’s hands moved to open the fastenings on Ed’s smalls. “How about you moan your release into _my_ mouth?” His flushed member fell into Edward’s hand, who gave it a few strokes before releasing it to push the smalls down Ed’s legs, allowing him to step out of them.

When Edward stood up and took hold of his member again, Ed reached out and dragged a finger through the remains of the sticky release at the young man’s crotch. He painted the milky white liquid over his own lips and dragged Edward in for a kiss. The young man moaned and clutched Ed’s head in both hands, licking and sucking at his lips in between deep kisses.

Edward may have visited the brothel that day, and rutted himself to release just a few minutes ago, but Ed hadn’t and he was feeling a warm, strong wave of lust rise up inside. Gripping Edward’s firm buttocks, he pulled their bodies together and thrust his hips lazily as they kissed. As the wave within him rose, their kiss became deeper, more sloppy, and Ed gripped the cheeks in his hands harder, letting his fingers delve into the cleft and tease against the puckered opening there.

Edward moaned into the kiss and pushed back into his hands. Ed let two fingers rub firm circles against the opening and was rewarded with a whine and hard sucking on his lips. He started walking Edward back towards the bed, who broke the kiss, panting. “Do you have anything? To ease the way?”

Ed buried his face in Edward’s neck when the kiss broke, and now groaned desperately with lust, and frustration. “No… I… No, there’s nothing. Fuck!”

Edward grabbed his head and kissed him sloppily in between his words. “Hey… it’s ok. We can still… just, need some spit and stretching. It’s fine, we can…”

Ed bit the young man’s tongue to stop him talking. “No. I want you to feel good, not spend the next week wincing with every step.”

Edward pulled away and linked at him with a smirk. “A _week_ is it? You’re going to take me that hard, are you?” He bit his lip and thrust his hips into Ed.

“Won’t be taking you at all tonight, will I? Now get on the bed, you reckless, hornery, fool.” Edward complied and Ed pushed him down to lay on his stomach. He straddled the young man’s thighs and stroked his hands over the smooth skin of his lower back, before moving down to cup the rounded cheeks. He massaged the firm muscles for a minute before sucking two fingers into his mouth to wet them. He slid the wet fingers down the bottom part of Edward’s cleft and the young man moaned and tried to spread his legs, but Ed held them together with his knees. He continued to push his fingers into the tight space just at the top of Edward’s thighs, slicking it.

Lining up his member, he thrust in, stretching himself out over the young man’s body, burying his face in his neck. “Keep your legs together, Edward.” He nodded into the pillow and Ed undulated his hips, feeling his member slide in the tight, warm channel. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but jaysus did it feel _good._ The warm, responsive body beneath him, the smell of Edward’s skin and release in the air, the frustrated moans and whimpers as he thrust his hips down, pushing Edward’s member into the bed. Not enough friction to give the man release, but enough to tease and titillate.

Ed picked up his pace, and Edward twisted his head, seeking his lips. They traded awkward, wet kisses, and loud breathy moans, until the wave inside Ed crested and he came in between Edward’s thighs, with the young man’s name on his lips.

He collapsed and lay painting for a minute, the warm body under him moving with Edward’s breaths and shifting hips, trying to get release. “Thatch… that was so good. And so frustrating.”

Having caught his breath, he lifted his lips to the man’s ear and growled. “Edward… can you feel my release dripping between your thighs?” The hips beneath his jerked and the young man groaned deep in his chest. Ed pushed himself up on all fours. “Turn over.” Edward flipped onto his back and Ed looked down between them to see his member standing flushed red, and leaking. He stroked a rough palm over the soft skin, from neck to crotch, and took hold of the shaft as he bent down and kissed the plump, parted lips on offer. 

He only gave the shaft one stroke before releasing it and moving off to the side. “Pull your legs up.” Edward complied and Ed moved to kneel between them. He took hold of the man’s feet and pushed the legs higher, almost bending him in half. “Hold them up.”

Ed laid down on his stomach with his face up close to Edward’s crotch, and lifted up his stones. Behind them, his own release was smeared over the inner thighs and over the backside of the sack. He dragged his fingers through it and slid them back to rub and push at the exposed rim. Edward gasped and moaned. “Yesss… Please, Thatch.”

He pulled his fingers away and wet them in his mouth. Pushing inside slowly, he thrust and twisted his finger until the passage felt a little looser, and worked the other one in as well. With two fingers thrusting inside, he lowered his head and licked the rest of his release from Edward’s skin, who’s moaning and writhing told him his efforts were _very_ appreciated.   
Once finished, he pushed his fingers in deep and lifted his head. “You can lower your legs now.”

Edward let go and placed them, knees bent on either side of Ed’s shoulders. Looking up, he saw the blond head pushing back into the pillow, back arched, as the young man bore down on his fingers. He lowered his head and gave the leaking member in front of him a long lick. Edward’s head shot up and he stared at Ed with wide eyes. “Now, Edward, I might not be as good at this as you are, but I am decent. And I may not have your gluttonous passion for it, but I am passionate about making you feel good.”

Ed wrapped his free hand around the base of the shaft and closed his lips over the leaking head. His fingers twisted and thrust inside, searching for the gland. Sucking and bobbing his head down to his fist, and up again, he felt Edward’s hand on his head. When he found the gland inside, he rubbed his fingertips against it, making the young man’s thrust his up.

Ed was grateful for the first he had wrapped at the base, else that hard, jerking thrust would have pushed Edward’s member into his throat. He didn’t mind taking a man into his mouth, he had never been able to take one in very deep without gagging, or even, during one memorable time, throw up. So, instead he used his lips and tongue, together with firm strokes from his fist, and deep thrusts with his fingers, to bring Edward his release. He heard the young man moan out a warning, and felt the tight walls around his fingers clench tighter.

Lifting his mouth off, he stroked the shaft until the milky spray shot out and landed on the smooth chest and stomach before him. Edward was moaning out his name, hands fisted in the bedding, back arched, and legs spread wide. Ed continued to pump his fist and fingers until Edward started to whine and squirm. He pulled away his hands and stretched out on the bed next to the young man, watching his blissed out face and heaving chest.

After a while, Edward opened his eyes and grinned at the ceiling. “Thatch, why don’t we do this all the time?”

Ed snorted. “You’ve been gone for ten months, that may be part of it. And before that you chose to stay with Bramah over joining me on the Dog, that may be another part of it.”

Edward winced and grimaces, and began to sit up. Before he could swing his legs over the edge of the bed, though, Ed had grabbed him and pushed him back down again. “Don't you _dare_. It’s been _ten months_ , and for part of it, I thought you were dead, and mourned you. You’re not going _anywhere_ for a while.”

Edward relaxed back into the bed and turned his face to Ed. His expression was serious. “You thought I was dead?”

“Aye. We all did. Except maybe Ben. Didn’t anyone tell you? Kidd arrived with news of your capture and imprisonment, as well as the fleet’s sinking.”

Edward turned his body to Ed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thatch, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. That must have been… I’m sorry.”

Ed shrugged and pulled the sheet up over their bodies. “It’s fine. You’re back, you’re alive. Just stay here and don’t run off for a bit, alright?” Edward nodded and crowded in close, throwing a leg over Ed’s hips and an arm over his chest. Ed wrapped his arm around the young man and they fell asleep together, lantern still burning on the table.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! Now our lovers are back together again and very happy. From now on there will no more violence or crying in this fic. I refuse. If you want that stuff, go play the game.
> 
> Oh, and in the game, in their first cutscene, I noticed that Thatch does not make eye contact with Kenway, or even look at him until Kenway says he named the ship Jackdaw. Instead, Thatch makes eye contact with Adéwalé. So that little part of this story is actually comepletely cannon. Why he’s not looking at Kenway is unknown, however. Maybe he was just transfixed by Adé and his towering beauty.


	9. Breaking the fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was no longer dark when he woke up this time, but Ed was still disoriented. He felt so good. Warm, relaxed, with waves of pleasure rolling over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um.. this turned out to be very dirty. I hope that’s ok.

* * *

It was no longer dark when he woke up this time, but Ed was still disoriented. He felt so _good_. Warm, relaxed, with waves of pleasure rolling over him. His half-sleeping mind took several long moments to realise what was going on, but once he finally cottoned on, he fumbled with the edge of the sheet. He lifted it high to reveal a mess of blond hair obscuring his crotch. Undulating his hips gently, he threw the sheet to the side and brushed the blond hair from the young man’s face. Edward’s eyes, crinkled in a smile his lips couldn’t mirror, met Ed’s. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks as he pulled off Ed’s hard, throbbing, member with a pop.

“Mornin’, Thatch.” He panted the words with a hoarse voice and gave a lewd smile before he ducked back down, curling his tongue around Ed’s slick glands, and pushed the tip into the slit. Ed groaned and took hold of the head between his legs and held tight. He felt the lips part around him, sinking him down deep into Edward’s throat. The young man’s hands slid in under his buttocks and pulled them up towards his mouth, encouraging Ed to thrust. The bone deep relaxation of sleep and pleasure still held him though, and he could hardly manage to speed up the languid undulation of his hips.

Edward growled or groaned, muffled by the thick shaft in his mouth, and pushed Ed’s hips up himself, lifting with strong hands, driving them up at a hard pace. Everything felt so good, warm, slick, and blissful, and Ed’s release took him by surprise. Arched like a cat, with Edward’s name a long moan on hip lips, and the man’s face pushed hard into his crotch, held firmly in place as gush after gush of his milk poured down into the willing man’s throat.

As soon as he began to relax his hold, Edward pushed his hands off and scrambled up Ed’s body, straddling his chest. The magnificent member stood just in front of him, hard and angry red, one of Edward’s hands gripping it and pumping, hard. Ed was dangerously close to slipping back into sleep, but the man above him was begging and he focused hard to stay awake. “Please, please Thatch, help me.”

He moved his hand up groggily, one to rest on the naked backside, the other fumbled to the front. Edward grabbed it and wrapped it around his shaft, and wrapped his own hand over, to pump both hands. Ed laid there, looking up at the man before him, blinking slowly, trying to keep sleep at bay. His free hand smoothed over the soft skin of Edward’s lower back, buttocks, and thigh, as he gazed at the young man straining to finish. The sun was streaming through the window, giving his skin and hair a golden glow. His lips, open to let out a stream of moans and profanities, are wet and swollen from sucking Ed. A little bit of pearly milk was smeared over the cupid’s bow, and Ed wondered if he had the strength to pull Edward’s head down to lick his lips clean. But the young man’s long, pink tongue sneaked out and slid over the smear, licking it clean.

He was a vision of lust, debauchery, and erotica, and Ed tightened his hand, causing Edward to groan and look down to meet his eyes. “Edward… you look so… Beautiful.”

The young man’s eyes stayed locked with his for a moment, wide and shining impossibly bright. Then they rolled back into his head, and Ed watched his release erupt from the slick little hole between the two swollen glands in awe. It was as if time had slowed down, letting him watch every last drop spring forward and land on his own chest, droplets clinging to the curled black hairs like stars in the night sky.

Edward relaxed and slid down to lay stretched along Ed’s side, one hand playing lazily in the milky pearls. Before Ed could say or do anything else, sleep pulled him down under again.

* * *

When he woke up next, it was not to the warm, languid pleasure of Edward’s mouth, but to the uncomfortable, insistent pressure of his bladder. As he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, he saw that his nighttime companion was gone, and with him, the clothes and weapons scattered over the floor. Like he’d never even been there.

Ed scrubbed his hands over his face and stood up, scratching his chest. He felt the hairs clumping together uncomfortably, and looked down, seeing Edward’s seed dried into the hairs on his chest. Glancing at a small metal mirror on the wall, he saw the same white traces in his beard. Grunting, he pulled a long shirt over his head and lit the small stove in his tiny kitchen corner. Pouring water from the jug into a pan, he set it on the stove to heat up before stepping outside for a piss off the porch.

Back inside, he pulled off the shirt again and pulled out a rag and a bowl, setting them on the table. As he waited for the water to heat, he searched through the two small cupboards in his small kitchen, and decided he needed to stock up on provisions after his bath if he didn’t want to take _all_ his meals at the tavern. He pulled out the bar of soap and cut a few shavings into the bowl. Thin curls of steam rose from the pan, and Ed lifted it off the stove and dumped the water over the soap flakes. Closing the grate on the stove to douse the flames, he put the pan to the side to cool. 

Whisking a finger through the warm water to dissolve the soap, he picked up the rag and soaked it.Ed scrubbed the cloth over his face, chest, and crotch, while pondering his grocery list. At the very top of it was oil. The next time he reunited with Edward, he would _not_ be so ill prepared as last night. Though he and Edward had been _intimate_ for about two years by now, they had only actually been together a handful of times, making the escalation of their intimacy seem like that of a prudish nun. 

Next time… next time he met that beautiful man, he was going to fuck his face and then flip him over and fuck his arse. He snorted into the empty room. _Two years_. It had taken him two years to get him into his bed, two years to take his member into his mouth, two years to push his fingers deep inside his beautiful, round arse. It was _not_ going to take another two years to get his shaft into that arse.

His member was swelling slightly at the thought of the things he wanted to do to and with Edward, and he dragged the warm, wet cloth over his crotch more thoroughly in response. Ed liked the feeling of being a little swollen, the heavy, warm reminder of pleasure to come. Whether that was from his own hand or not didn’t matter. He just liked that low hum through his body.

The door opened just as he had pulled back his foreskin to wash underneath it. He froze and locked eyes with the intruder. Edward stood, one aborted step inside through the door. A wide grin on his face was melting into slack jawed lust, his eyes darkening until hardly any blue was visible anymore. 

Moving slowly, Edward closed his mouth and stepped all the way inside, shutting the door behind him. He put down the crate he was carrying on the table, and stepped close to Ed. “Thatch…” His voice sounded hoarse and thick, and there was an audible click as he swallowed, adam's apple bobbing. The young man ran his hand through the soft curls on Ed’s chest, raking his nails over the skin, from sternum to stomach. Ed looked at him, watching as Edward followed the path of his own hand with a slight part of his lips, tongue slipping out to glide over them as his eyes reached Ed’s crotch, hand still gripping the member, just the head sticking out of his fist.

Edward licked his lips again and swallowed. “Continue to… um… wash.” His eyes flicked back up to Ed’s. “Please?”

Ed complied, washing his member and sack much more thoroughly then he had planned. All the while staring at the young man as he stared at Ed in rapt attention. He finished with a few extra swipes over his chest and throat, and put the rag back in the bowl.

Edward lifted his hand again, stroking it over the hair on Ed’s chest. “I never really saw you before… I didn’t realize I hadn’t... until now.” Edward was looking at him with that same _hunger_ he’d shown on the Sea Dog when Ed had pulled his member out of his breeches that first time. Any insecurities he held about his appearance just melted away under the _heat_ of the young man’s gaze. “You look so…” Edward lifted his eyes to Ed’s and held them as he shed his clothes onto the floor until he, too, stood naked.

The young man’s member was swelling rapidly, and Ed felt a sympathetic surge in his own crotch. He reached out and pulled Edward closer, resting his hands on his hips. “I look so… what?” He let his voice rumble a little lower than usual, and smiled when he felt a slight shiver run though the other man.

“...good. You look, um, good.” He felt Edward’s hand run over his thigh and buttock, settling on his lower back. The other was curling around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

After Edward’s reaction when walking in on his washing, Ed would have bet money on their kiss rapidly escalating until they tumbled into bed or a wall, to rut at each other frantically. He was wrong though. The kiss was slow and languid. He felt the young man’s hand at the nape of his neck play with his hair, winding it around and combing through it with gentle fingertips. Their hips were pulled close, half hard members nuzzled side by side, but neither of them were thrusting, but instead just enjoying the slow kiss.

After a few minutes of soft kisses, and gliding his palms over tantalizing skin, Ed pulled away. “Do you want to wash too? I can heat up some more water.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just use yours.” Edward turned to the table and grabbed the rag from the bowl.

“What’s in the crate?” Ed stepped around to peer inside.

“Provisions. Your stores are empty and I thought you could use some breakfast too.”

“Too?” Edward’s eyes sparkled as they flickered down to Ed’s crotch, and his pink tongue came out to lick his lips. Ed grinned and rolled his eyes. “Hornery fool.”

He reached inside and plucked Edward’s provisions out of the crate, setting them on the table. There was bread, cheese, cured meat, eggs, fruit, fresh and pickled vegetables, wine, rum and… oil. Ed felt a bit of warmth pooling in his stomach, and looked up at Edward. “This is a veritable feast. You didn’t need to do this.”

The young man smirked and winked at him. “I stole a ship from the spanish treasure fleet. I have plenty of gold to indulge myself with. And my friends.”

Ed tore off a piece of bread and cut a slice of meat, sitting down in one of the chairs to break his fast, and blatantly watch as the young man washed himself. The rag smoothed over his face and neck, over the smooth, broad chest, over shoulders and arms. He was just as thorough with his member as Ed had been, the flesh swelling a bit under his own attention.

Then Edward put his foot up on the chair between Ed’s legs and reached behind himself. Ed couldn’t see what he was doing, but from the slight hitch in the young man’s breathing and the teeth sinking into his lower lip, he guessed the rag wasn’t just being dragged through the cleft of the man’s backside. The member before him swelled more and Ed’s responded in kind. 

Edward finished and dropped the rag back into the bowl, before reaching over the table to grab a bottle of wine, uncorking it. He took a long swig and handed it to Ed, who washed down his meal with a large gulp. Edward sat down in the vacant chair and cut a strip of meat for himself. “So, what have you been doing while I was away?”

Ed took another swig from the bottle and handed it over. “Well… for the first six months or so, we did several successful runs all over the Bahamas, from here down to Tortuga. After that the crew was exhausted and the ship in need of an overhaul, so we came back here.”

Edward frowned slightly. “You’ve been in Nassau for four months?”

Ed’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment, and he decided to busy himself by picking up Edward’s clothes and gear from the floor. “Aye, sounds about right. As I said, the crew was exhausted and the ship needed repairs. And I… I was exhausted too. Tired. Of the sea, of the ship, of the close quarters… Of worrying.” He hung the clothes and weapons by the door and grabbed his long shirt, pulling it over his head, feeling bare and vulnerable enough without being naked on top of it. “Didn’t want the cramped, close quarters of the inn, so I found this place. Like it. Quiet, had a porch, grass, chickens.”

Edward was looking at him with solemn, searching eyes. “The crew must be getting restless, though? After four months…”

“Mmm, Mr Hands mentioned something like that some weeks back, but then…” He trailed off and stood in the middle of the room, feeling a little lost and exposed.

“Then Kidd showed up and told you I was dead.” Ed nodded. “Remind me to kick the shit out of that little snot-nosed rat later.” Edward stood up and walked over. “I’m sorry. I _did_ return to Nassau right away after I got my own ship.”

Ed couldn’t help an amused snort. “ _Why_ did you name it that?”

“Because I used to love jackdaws as a child. Clever, canny little things. Aso known for stealing shiny things and hiding them in their nests. It’s a _pirate ship_. It’s _funny_.” The young man grinned widely, and Ed shook his head with a fond smile. Then he turned serious again.

“But why didn’t I… we hear anything about you.. About Bramah or the Jackobite for all this time? You were supposed to sail around Cuba. Usually, _someone_ spots or runs into another ship around here and can tell about it.”

“Oh, we followed the coast down to Costa Rica and Panama for a while, that’s what ate up most of the time I’ve been gone. We were heading back to Nassau when we got into a battle with another ship off the west coast of Cuba. Might have won too if…” He trailed off and stared in wide eyed surprise at Ed. “You don’t know. I forgot to tell you.”

Ed looked confused at the wide, joyous smile that spread over Edward’s face, like the sun sliding out from behind a cloud. “The magazine caught fire. The explosion ripped the Jackobite apart, and it sank with all hands. The blast threw me clear and I managed to swim ashore. That’s where the whole… _thing_ about Walpole started, where I got these nice robes.”

He gestured at the wall where Ed had hung his things, still smiling widely. Ed stared a little dumbfounded. The ship had exploded, killing everyone except for Edward, who by unnatural luck or divine intervention had survived. He thought Ben might be right, Edward was too skilled - and lucky - to die.

The young man grabbed him by the shoulders, seeking his eyes, still grinning. “Don’t you see? That shit-stain Bramah and the worthless brutes on his crew are _all_ dead. All of them! Except for me. I survived their treatment and I survived what none of them were strong enough to survive. No one can call me a weak little molly now. I’m free!”

He kissed Ed hard and pulled back with a smack of their lips, still grinning. Ed grinned back and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist. “Free, heh? Free like spend the night in my tiny little shack without repercussions?”

Edward kissed him again, sliding his arms around his neck. “Free to spend several nights in your little shack. Several days too. Making loud noises, disturbing the neighbors.”

They kissed for a few minutes, letting the heat build between them. When they broke for air, Ed kissed Edward’s neck and tugged on his ear with gentle nips of his teeth. “Do you know what I was thinking about just before you walked in?” The young man shook his head while angling it so he’d expose more of his throat to Ed’s lips. “I was thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you. How I needed to go out and acquire some oil for the purpose.”

He let his hands slide down to the bare bottom and gripped them hard, spreading the cheeks. Edward groaned and hissed out a ‘Yesss’. Ed let go and stepped back. “Grab the oil, lad.” Then he sat down in his stuffed chair, ready to take the boy into his lap to start preparations.

Edward grabbed the oil and turned back. “No, get that shirt off. I’m tired of you always hiding yourself under all those layers like a monk.”

Ed thought they had always been fairly evenly dressed during all their encounters, but held his comment and pulled his shirt off, and beckoned the young man over. “Come on… Give me the oil and come straddle me, lad.” Edward's eyes darkened again as he obeyed, sliding his knees into the chair on either side of Ed’s thighs and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, hungry eyes fixed on Ed’s.

Awkward with his hands out of sight behind Edward’s back, Ed opened the flask of oil and poured some into his palm, before wedging it between the chair and the young man’s shin. Coating his fingers, he slid them into the cleft of Edward’s bottom, searching for the tight rim. Finding it, he pushed pads of his fingers around it, massaging the oil in and relaxing the muscles.

Edward slid one hand into the hair at Ed’s neck, the other settling on his chest, playing with the hair right near his nipple. Ed pushed one fingertip inside to the first knuckle, and bent it gently before pulling it out and pushing it in again.

Edward sighed and pushed back, making the finger slide in deeper. “Thatch. I’m not a fragile woman, you don’t need to be that careful. I took two of your fingers with just a little spit last night, I can handle two now too.”

Ed bent his head forward and bit at Edward’s jaw, while he slid his finger in and out slowly. “Did it not occur to you that I might be trying to tease you? Make you desperate and frustrated and ready to beg for me?”

Edward growled and gripped Ed’s head in both hands. “Thatch. I’m already desperate and frustrated, and I’ll beg if you like. Please? More fingers. Hurry up. Get me ready to fuck. Please? Was that good enough?”

Ed hummed at him but pushed a second finger inside. “I had this idea of talking it so slow that you’d be a whimpering, wet mess by the time I actually got myself inside you. I suppose that’s off the table now?” He scissored and curled his fingers as he spoke, making Edward lick his lips, breathing heavier.

“That sounds great, Thatch, it really does. But that’s what Tortuga is for, right? To spend _time_ together? And I want that so much. Let that be our next port of call. But now… I need you to hurry up. I haven’t had anyone fucking me for a lot longer than ten months, and that time wasn’t even you.”

Ed added a third finger and pushed them deep, scissoring and curling them. He relished the strangled moan and panting breaths he pushed out of the young man in his lap. “Alright, you win, Edward. Let me stretch you just a little bit more, so you don’t get hurt. You’re so _tight_.” It was true. The three fingers he had wedged inside the man were being squeezed _hard_ and it took effort to part and curl them.

Edward groaned, half frustration, half pleasure, and pushed himself down onto Ed’s fingers. “It’s _fine_ , Thatch. I don’t mind being a little sore, just fuck me already.”

Ed chuckled while awkwardly grabbing the flask of oil again, pouring some into the cleft, pushing the oil inside and it poured down to the hole. “Oh, you’re going to be sore no matter what I do. I just don’t want to give you tears that’ll take days to heal. I plan on having you again in a few hours, and then again after that.”

Edward moaned at his words, eyes rolling in his head before he buried his face in Ed’s neck, sucking at the skin. Ed thrust his fingers in and out a little faster, feeling the tight muscle begin to relax. He scissored them wide and pulled out. The young man whined and pushed back into thin air, but Ed just patted his oily, messy hand on his bottom. “Come on, get up.”

He pushed Edward off him and stood up, turning them around directing him to kneel in the chair. Ed poured more oil into his hand and put the flask on the table. Slicking his member, he stepped up behind Edward and rested the swollen head against the loosened, oiled opening. “Ready?” Edward nodded and arched his back, pushing his bottom closer to Ed and making the cheeks part slightly.

One hand around his shaft, and the other gripping the young man’s hip tight, Ed pushed slowly inside, feeling the muscle grip him tightly. “Relax, Edward…” He smoothed his hand over the curved back in front of him. The blond head was bowed and pressed against the back of the stuffed chair. Ed felt the tightness lessen, minutely. He continued to stroke the soft, smooth skin of the back, up and down the spine while murmuring quietly. Slowly, slowly he eased almost all the way inside.

Edward was gripping the headrest hard, panting like he’d been running. Ed moved, slowly, careful not to push or pull, so that he was leaning over Edward’s back, speaking softly into his ear. “Lad, you have to relax or I’ll just end up hurting you. Just breathe slowly and try to unclench, it’ll stop hurting if you do.”

Edward gave a strange, panting snort. “Hurting? Thatch, I’m trying not to spill all over the chair here. You feel so _fucking_ good.”

Ed startled in surprise, and then rolled his eyes. Stupid _boy._ He reached around and gripped Edward’s hard, leaking member, and stroked firmly. The young man yelped and protested at the touch. “You are a fool, Edward. You really think I can’t fuck you hard again, if you spill now?” He chuckled and pumped his fist faster, listening to the beautiful moans spilling free. “You may be the master of sucking a man’s soul out through his member, but I am the master of _this_ . I have had _practice_. Now, release yourself into my hand so you can relax, and let me fuck your beautiful backside, like you deserve.”

Edward sobbed and spilled his seed over Ed’s fingers and the chair. When he finished, Ed felt the tight channel loosen, and he pushed in the last little bit. With one hand now curled protectively around Edward’s softening member, Ed moved the other to his hip and held on as he pulled out slowly. The second push in was still very tight, but more the tightness of a body unused to the intrusion but happy to accommodate it all the same, not the vice like grip of the first stroke.

He continued in and out slowly until Edward’s body was yielding to him easily. Still so tight, but welcoming. Edward’s breathing had returned mostly to normal after his release, and he was only giving soft breathy moans as Ed’s member slid in and out of him. “Ready to go faster?”

The young man nodded against the chair. “Yesss. Fuck me.”

Ed pulled out and pushed back in, just a little faster than before, testing the waters. He was rewarded with a groan. He did it again, just a little faster and angled his thrusts, trying to find and hit Edward’s gland. He hit it on the third try, and Edward’s head shot up from the chair back as he cried out. Having found what he was looking for, Ed put his knees on the chair between Edward’s legs, and crowded up close, with one hand holding the chair back, the other still cradling the soft member.

Setting a fast pace, he pushed his face into the crook of Edward’s neck and whispered a litany of praise and filth into the young man’s ear. The beautiful man in his arms was moaning and groaning, shifting into shouts of pleasure every time Ed hit his gland just right. After minutes, or maybe hours of fast, determined thrusts, Ed felt Edward’s member begin to stir in his hand. 

The young man was _loud_ and getting louder, but trying to fight it by stuffing his fist into his mouth. Ed released the member and lifted his hand to Edward’s face. The fingers and palm were still smeared until his release. "Here, Edward. Suck on my fingers.”

The young man gripped Ed’s hand desperately and stuffed three fingers into his mouth. As soon as the taste hit his tongue, he moaned and threw his head back onto Ed’s shoulder, still clutching the hand tight, tongue dancing between the fingers. “Edward… so beautiful. You’re clenching me so tight, milking me. I’m getting so close now. I’m going to spill my seed inside you. Edward, I want you to come too. Squeeze it out of me, help me fill you up with my milk.”

Ed growled his words against the side of Edward’s face, feeling the man’s cheek hollow around his fingers, and hearing the moans get louder and louder. His hand was released and Edward reached down and gripped himself, pumping his member, as he moaned, called, _screamed_ encouragement, curses, and Ed’s name. No doubt, absolutely everyone near the shack knew what they were doing. 

And knew they were doing it _well_.

Ed felt the tight channel begin to spasm and clench around his thrusting member, and Edward’s hips were jerking erratically, back into Ed, forward into his fist. It pulled his release from him and Ed groaned from deep in his chest, pushing his member in deep and grinding his hips hard against Edward, who was still clenching and moaning loudly.

Slowly, they both came down and stilled their hips. Ed mouthed sucking kisses over Edward’s throat until the man turned his face, seeking the lips with his own. They kissed awkwardly as Ed’s member slowly softened and slipped out. 

Ed moved off the chair, mindful of his sore, tired knees and pulled Edward with him over to the bed. They laid down curled around each other, exhausted and spent. Edward gave a hoarse, low chuckle and murmured into Ed’s neck. “If you had bent me over the desk and taken me like this that first time, I would have dropped right to my knees and begged you to let me be your _boy_.”

Ed shivered with pleasure and pulled him in closer, drifting off to sleep, fantasizing what it would have been like to have Edward at his beck and call on the ship.

* * *


	10. Making the most of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed woke for the third time that day, arms wrapped around the still sleeping Edward, nose buried in his hair. A knock on the door had roused him, followed a few moments later by a muffled,
> 
> “Captain Thatch?”

* * *

  
Ed woke for the third time that day, arms wrapped around the still sleeping Edward, nose buried in his hair. A knock on the door had roused him, followed a few moments later by a muffled, “Captain Thatch?”

He untangled himself from Edward and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, grabbing for his long-shirt on the floor. Pulling it over his head, he walked to the door and opened it a crack. Hands stood on the porch outside, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Mr Hands. Give me a moment, I’ll be right outside.”

His First Mate nodded and Ed pulled the door shut. Moving softly to not make unnecessary noise, he pulled his clothes on and grabbed the half-finished bottle of wine before stepping outside and closing the door behind him. Hands had stepped off the porch and stood looking at the chickens as he waited for Ed to emerge. When the door opened, he turned around, still embarrassed and uncomfortable. Ed gestured to one of the chairs on the porch and sat himself in the other. 

He drank from the bottle in his hands and offered it to his visitor, who waved it away. “So. What can I do for you, Mr Hands?”

The man looked tense and still so very uncomfortable, and was sure that if the man had a hat, it would have been in his hands, being twisted to shreds. Since he knew his First Mate took no issue with his relationship with Edward, or any other man, and so Ed could only conclude that this was about the ship and crew. “Well, Captain… um…”

“It’s the crew. They’re restless and want to get out there again.”

Hands shot him a grateful look and exhaled. “Aye, sir. They were itching to go a few weeks back like I said, but then… then Captain Kidd came, and we all understood, of course. But now… now that Kenway is back, well the crew feels the reason for the delay is gone and we should get going now. Sir.” The words came out in what sounded like a practiced, and reluctant rush.

“It’s not even been a full day! Did they expect to set sail as soon as Kenway stepped ashore?” Ed was torn between exasperation and amusement, and tried to not sound like he was angry with Hands.

“Um… no, Captain. I don’t think so, but the crew are looking for some assurance that we’ll be heading out soon. We’ve already lost a few to other ships, and I’m afraid we’ll lose a lot more if we don’t act soon.”

Ed grunted and drank more wine. Hands was right of course, it was long past time to get going again. His stunt with Hocking had maybe bought him some extra time, but if he followed-up his lovesick mourning with days or weeks of playing house with Kenway, then his crew - Hands included - were apt to give up on him and set sail without him. “How fast can we be stocked and ready to depart?”

Hands gave him a glance. “Tomorrow morning, Captain.”

Ed coughed, surprised. Seems the mutiny was closer than he’d thought. “Eh… can we make it the day after tomorrow? Figure we should sit down and make some plans concerning our heading and the like.”

His First Mate smiled and nodded. “Aye, Captain Thatch, I reckon we can do that. I’ll go tell the crew to prepare to ship out the day after tomorrow.”

“Good. Grand. I’ll see you at the tavern tomorrow to start the plans.”

Hands left and Ed drank the rest of the wine, putting the bottle down on the porch. He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. His dream of having Kenway to himself in his little shack had just been crushed, but he still had the rest of the day and night, and he was going to make the most of it.

* * *

When he stepped back inside the shack, Edward was up and dressed, putting away the groceries into cupboards and onto window sills. “You heard?”

The young man nodded and gave a small smile. “I did. Expected as much after what you told me. Brave of Hands to march over here and tell you. Or foolish. Might have had his own ship to Captain if he hadn’t.”

Ed grunted and walked over, wrapping his hands around Edward’s waist as the man stretched up to place the unopened bottles on top of a cupboard. He licked a broad stripe over the exposed neck and smiled as the young man fumbled the last bottle, nearly dropping it. “You’re not leaving, are you?” He smoothed his hands over Edward’s stomach and thighs. Though the young man had left his weapons off, he’d dressed more than mere decency required, wearing not just his breeches and shirt, but boots and blue coat as well. Even the red sash was securely tied around his waist.

Edward leaned back into Ed, dropping his head onto his shoulder. “No. But for a moment there, it sounded like you might have to run off and spend the rest of the day preparing to leave and…”

“And you thought I’d kick you out without so much as a by-your-leave? Edward… I’m offended.” He bit the exposed neck and sucked hard over the bite mark, lifting blood to the surface to form a pretty bruise, and heard Edward moan. Ed slid an arm up to wrap around the broad chest, holding the young man in place, while the other slid in between his legs to cup the bulge, kneading it gently.

“I… ah… I was going to come back… Later… tonight.”

Ed growled and bit Edward’s chin, squeezing the bulge a little harder, feeling the man’s hips buck into his hand. “Well, I’m not letting you leave. I have you until tomorrow morning, and I will use that time to slake my thirst from these past ten months, and to build up my stores to keep me until next time.” Edward was grinding into his hand and moaning wantonly. “Question is… where to start?” 

He pressed his lips to the young man’s throat and pondered. “Maybe I’ll just put my hand down your breeches right here, and tug on you til you spil? Then sit down in my nice, comfortable chair and thrust myself into your pretty mouth until it’s all swollen and panting and streaked with white?” Edward groaned and twisted around in Ed’s arms, gripping his behind and grinding their hips together as he licked his way inside Ed’s mouth.

Ed caressed down the back of the coat and snuck his hands in under to cup and squeeze the round buttocks. They kissed for a long time, grinding their hips together and panting moaning breaths against wet lips.

Eventually, Edward pulled away and pushed Ed into one of the kitchen chairs, before fumbling his breeches open and pulling his swollen member out. It was already leaking, and Edward licked long, wet stripes up and down the shaft before curling his tongue around the head and into the little slit. Ed moaned and clutched the blond head in his lap. Edward lifted his head a little and looked up. “Tell me about all the things you wanted to do to me.” Then he wrapped his lips around Ed’s shaft and sank down, cheeks hollowed, gaze locked upward.

Ed moaned and licked his lips, trying to remember anything at all. “Ah… I wanted this.. You sucking, milking me. Your throat, sliding…” Edward pushed all the way down and buried his nose in Ed’s curls, Ed’s member deep in his throat.

The young man’s hands were pulling at Ed’s breeches to slide them further down, letting him lift the sack out. Rolling the stones gently in his hand, he pulled his mouth off Ed and frowned. “That’s it? You just want my mouth, then we’re done? What are we gonna do with the rest of the night? Play cards?”

Ed snorted and pushed the blond head down again, the young man catching his member neatly between wet lips. He continued to push until he felt Edward’s nose push into his curls again, and jerked his hips up sharply once, before relaxing his hold and letting the young man take over. The move had clearly pleased Edward, though, who moaned and slid his hands around to cup and pull at Ed’s backside. Ed tried to bite down on his moans and gasps enough to speak like his young man wanted to. “I wanted… to bend you over this table and take you, and… and… then sit down in the chair… to lick you clean.” 

Vibrations around his shaft rewarded him, and Edward pulled on his backside again. Edward rewarded him in turn with two sharp thrusts, down into the warm, willing throat. “Wanted to sit in the stuffed chair with you riding my fingers in your arse… kissing and grinding together… til… Ah!... we spilled on my stomach…. and then have you lick it all up.”

Edward was moaning steadily now, or maybe humming something. It felt really good either way. Ed jerked his hips a few times and stroked the blond hair. The young man pulled off, panting and nuzzled Ed’s sack. “More. Love your voice. Your filthy mind.”

Ed took a deep breath himself and continued as soft, wet lips sucked on his stones. “Wanted to lay back on the bed and let you ride me till I spilled deep inside you. Lay you down next to me, all spent and pliant, kiss your neck… and use my fingers to feed you my release from your slick little hole…”

Edward stopped and looked up at him. Ruddy lips slack and wide eyes dark. “Seriously?” His voice was raw and hardly more than a whisper.

Ed blushed and shifted in the chair. “Ah… filthy mind?”

Edward licked his lips and nodded. “Fuck my throat. Thrust hard. And don’t stop talking.” 

Ed didn’t have time to take in the words before the young man took him in again, sucking hard on his member. “Oh! Ah… I wanted to…” Gripping the head in his lap, he thrust his hips up, more desperately than the jerking moves before. He tried to set a pace that gave Edward what he wanted, but let him keep enough of his wits to keep talking. “... push inside your… swollen, slick hole while you slept, push you into the bed… wake you up full of me..”

Edward was pulling at his hips, urging him to speed up, so he did. Slipping in and out of the slick throat, feeling spit dribble out of the wide, welcoming mouth and down onto his thighs and sack. “Thought about… about bringing a girl here… having her together. Watching you with her…” His hips moved faster, his grip on Edward’s head stronger, he was getting close, so close. “Maybe lure you out on the porch at night, in the dark… have you suck me…”

So close… 

He pushed Edward’s head hard into his lap and kept it there, trying to stop his hips jerking. “...or take you, naked, up against the door… make you scream, wake everyone up… but no one could see in the dark… only hear you howling… unless they came with lanterns…” His hips were still now, though his member jerked a little from the lust and pain of being so hard and so close.

He felt Edward’s throat contract in a convulsive swallow and pushed the blond head off of his member. The young man sat, kneeling on the floor looking up at Ed, confused. Swollen lips, saliva smeared all around and down his chin. “Get those clothes off, lad. I’m not wasting one of my releases today on us being fully clothed, and you spilling untouched on my floor.” Unlike that time just before Edward boarded the Jackobite for the first time, the young man had not ripped open his own breeches or touched himself at all, so maybe there was a chance he’d be able to save it for Ed. But Ed was not willing to take that chance.

Edward stood up on shaky legs and started to remove his coat. Ed sat still, breathing heavy, trying to will his member to calm down, at least enough to let him move and undress himself. He watched Edward who had dropped his coat on the floor and kicked off his boots, and was now pulling his breeches open, revealing his angry red member, standing almost straight up and hardly even bobbing, it was so hard and swollen. It disappeared from sight as Edward pushed the breeches off his legs and his shirttails fell over his thighs. The young man hissed at the contact from the cloth on his sensitive skin, and jerked the shirt off impatiently. He stood still for a moment, staring at Ed, panting hard. “Well? Aren’t _you_ going to undress?”

Ed almost laughed at the petulant tone in his voice, but bit his lip instead. “Trying hard not to spill here, boy.”

Edward laughed and paced to the other side of the little room, both hands pulling at his hair. “Tell me about it!” He stood, facing away, breathing hard.

Ed closed his eyes and tried to think of something that would calm him without completely ruining the mood. Finally, this mind settled on the image soothing and hypnotising image of the chickens outside, pecking in the grass.

Slowly, his member went from painful to just very hard, and he stood up, pulling his shirt over his head. At the sound of the fabric hitting the floor, Edward turned around and watched as Ed pushed his breeches off. He took a step forward but stopped, seemingly unsure of his welcome. Ed held out a hand and the young man moved again, stepping in close, but not touching.

Ed chuckled and stroked the messy blond hair, tucking it behind his ears. “I’m not that young of a man anymore, Edward. There’s a limit to how many releases I can have before I have to go meet Hands at that damn tavern tomorrow.”

Edward smiled and let his fingers play lightly in the hair on Ed’s chest. “You’re talking like you’re an old man, Thatch. But you’re not that much older than me. Not even nearly old enough to be my Pa.”

Ed let his fingers glide down from the young man’s hair to his chest and let a fingertip circle around a small, pebbled nipple. Edward let out a sigh and licked his lips, swaying slightly into Ed’s touch.“So… what do you want to do… if not that?” He gestured to the chair Ed had just vacated. 

Ed flattened his palm over the nipple and pulled Edward a little closer by his hips. “I just want you close in my arms, so I can kiss and taste and smell and see you when you finish. Not just on the floor at my feet.”

Edward hummed and mirrored what Ed had done, playing his fingers in circles around his nipple. “Well, Thatch. There’s the problem of what I want, as well.”

Ed cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”

“See...I want to suck you till I choke on your seed, and that’s a bit difficult to combine with kissing and being ‘in your arms’.” Ed’s hands spasmed a little on Edward’s chest and hip, and the young man smirked at him. “How about a compromise? I go and sit in that nice cushy chair, and you stick your shaft down my throat until I’m all _choked up._ And then we switch, and _you_ sit in the chair and _I_ climb into your arms and we can kiss and touch and taste all you want. You could take me in your hand until I spill too. Maybe a couple of fingers in my arse for good measure. To prepare for things to come. How does that sound?”

Edward gave him a wide slightly feral grin, and pinched his nipple. Ed sucked in a breath and nodded. “Well reasoned, son. Can’t find fault with that.”

Edward let him go of him and threw himself into the chair, legs splayed wide for Ed to stand between. He snatched up the flask of oil from the table and walked over, his still hard member bobbing awkwardly. Edward sat up straighter and took hold of Ed’s hips, pulling him in close. The long pink tongue came out and lapped at the drops of clear liquid that had run down the shaft. Ed rested the hand holding the oil on the young man’s shoulder, and cupped the other around his neck. Edward opened his mouth and slid the head of Ed’s member in, just laying it on his tongue and gazing up expectantly, a smile glittering in his eyes.

Ed thrust forward and watched his shaft disappear into the welcoming mouth. He thrust slowly but pushed as deep as he could go. When he pulled out, Edward wrapped his lips closed around the hard length and sucked. The hands on his hips pulled and Ed thrust again, harder this time, and let his hand around the man’s neck help to pull him in.

Once more, faster, harder, and the young man moaned, vibrating around Ed’s sensitive flesh. The sensation ratcheted Ed’s lust up to almost where it had been before, and he thrust fast, hard, and deep, holding Edward’s head in place for a few breaths against his crotch, every few thrusts, grinding in hard. Edward was moaning and drooling freely around his shaft again, enjoying himself as much, if not more, as Ed, who was groaning and panting, growling out encouragement and the young man’s name.

Suddenly, he felt one of Edward’s fingers, slick with spit, circling and pushing against the tight rim of his arse. The shock of it made him fall over his edge, just as he had pulled almost all the way out of Edward’s mouth. His release spurted into the waiting mouth, and then pulse after pulse of it deeper and deeper, until he was clutching the blond head tight and shuddering the last few dribbles deep down the tight throat.

The muscles around his shaft were convulsing and Ed pulled away, head swimming as he looked down. Edward was coughing lightly and swallowing repeatedly, pearly white leaking from the corners of his mouth. Ed put a finger under his chin to make him look up, and smiled almost sweetly. “You did say you wanted to choke on it, wasn’t that right?”

Edward coughed again and shook his head with a smile. He pushed Ed away lightly and stood up, walking over to the kitchen and pulling down a bottle of wine from the cupboard, to clear his cough with a drink. While the young man drank, Ed sat down in the chair and poured oil into his palm. He wedged the flask by his hip and set about coating his fingers. Before he was finished, Edward was back in front of him, his member swollen red and hard, and bobbing lightly in Ed’s face. “That for me?”

He was smiling and crowding Ed until he opened his arms and let Edward straddle him. “Aye, for you, lad. If we start now, you might be stretched and ready for me by the time I’m ready for you again. So we won’t have to work so hard at it this time.”

Edward bent down to kiss him, and Ed licked at his stained lips and the dribbles at the corners, before deepening the kiss. He moved one hand to lightly hold the hard member between their bodies, while the other moved back searching for the pucker there. When he found it, he dragged his oiled fingers around to slick the surrounding area, before pushing one finger inside as far as it would go. Edward gave a surprised huff and moaned against Ed’s lips. He felt the hard member twitch and he tightened his hand around the base, making the young man’s head loll to the side. Ed kissed the offered throat and thrust his oiled finger in and out slowly. He teased the second one around the rim, but did not push it in. “Edward… how many fingers do you want before I start stroking you?” 

He squeezed his hand a little tighter to point out that it wasn’t moving, and Edward gasped, his head moving back to seek Ed’s in a biting kiss. “Th...three.”

“Three? You want three fingers inside before I help you finish?” Edward nodded and rubbed his cheek against Ed’s like a cat. Eager to oblige him, Ed worked the second finger inside and kissed over the young man’s jaw. Thrusting and scissoring, he delighted in the moans spilling out from Edward’s lips as he pushed back onto Ed’s fingers and tried, failing, to thrust into his fist.

As he worked the velvet soft tight channel loose enough to add the third finger, Ed busied himself by sucking bruises into Edward’s throat and jaw. The moans were getting louder, as were the pleas for, “More, one more, I can take it, Thatch.”  
Ed rubbed his two fingers against the gland inside and Edward cried out, shooting up to stand straighter on his knees, one hand reaching back to grip Ed’s wrist and push the fingers deeper. The young man’s new position brought his chest to Ed’s face and he leaned in, taking one of the small tight nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping lightly with gentle teeth. The move clearly pleased Edward who clutched Ed’s head tight and moaned, begging again for the third finger.

Ed pulled the two fingers out almost all the way and then worked the third finger inside. He flexed and scissored them, working them deeper, until Edward’s hand around his wrist showed them inside roughly, hitting the gland. The young man froze and stopped breathing for a moment, and Ed felt a pulsing in the man’s member, trying to push past his hard grip. Edward relaxed minutely and started breathing again, hips working back and forth. 

Ed pulled the fingers out and pushed them back in scissoring and stretching. Edward was moaning loudly and complaining, pleading with him. “That’s three. We said three. It’s three. Please Thatch, let me, let me.”

Ed twisted his face free from where it was still clutched against the man’s nipple. “Aye, son. That’s three. But there’s the problem of what _I_ want. I want four fingers before I release you, but you only wanted three.” Ed pushed and massaged the gland between each firm thrust inside the young man. “So, we’re compromising. _You_ get your _three_ fingers, and then _I_ get my _four_ , and _then_ I’ll let you go.”

Ed was absolutely loving having Edward desperate and writhing in his lap, while his own mind was free of the clouds of lust that would push him to act on behalf of his own release, and let him focus on the pleasure of the boy in his lap. Edward was groaning and cursing at him, but Ed just smiled and sucked a bruise into the skin by his nipple.

Then it was time. He pushed his smallest finger against the loosened ring of muscles and felt it slide inside as Edward keened above him. He flexed and scissored until he got deep enough to massage the gland, and stopped moving his hand. “Edward?” He waited for an acknowledgement, mumbled against his head where the young man had buried his face. “That’s four, lad. Nice and snug inside.”

Edward nodded silently, hips twitching slightly. “Come down here and kiss me, and I’ll _release_ you.” The young man sank down from his upright kneeling position, and into Ed’s lap, making the four fingers push deeper inside. He tried to kiss Ed valiantly, but it was barely more than heavy, panting breaths against his lips. 

Ed loosened his iron grip on the throbbing, hard member and gave it a long firm stroke. Edward gasped and moaned, and his backside spasmed. Another stroke of his hand made the hips jerk, sliding the fingers out a little bit. Edward bit at Ed’s lips and pushed back, bearing down on the fingers, getting them back in deep. The third stroke set him off and his body clenched hard around Ed’s fingers while his seed started spilling onto his chest and stomach. He milked the young man through it until the spasms stopped and Edward collapsed, limp into Ed’s lap, who pulled his fingers out carefully, and jostled the boy lightly.

Sleeping. Ed grinned and silently congratulated himself on a job well done. Putting one hand under the boy’s backside, and the other around his shoulders, Ed held him tight and stood up, awkwardly walking the two steps to the bed and laying him down.

* * *

Ed stretched his back and stepped over to the little kitchen area. The bowl of twice used bathwater was still sitting on the table and Ed plucked out the rag and scrubbed away the sticky seed from his chest and stomach. He tossed the water out of the window and pulled on his breeches. After a moment's hesitation, he picked up the rest of the clothes from the floor and hung them by the door. His stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him of how active his day had been so far, and that it had been several hours since he ate.

Lighting the stove, he searched through the cupboards for the food Edward had put away, pulling out eggs, cabbage, bread, cheese, and putting it on the table. Pondering if there would be enough oil for the rest of their night if he used some for cooking, he spotted a second slask that he apparently had missed when he emptied the crate, but that Edward had put on the table. Pouring some into the pan, he pulled out plates and a wooden spoon while he waited for the oil to heat. Cracking four eggs into the pan, he listened to the satisfying sizzle and his stomach rumbled again. The eggs cooked quickly and he slid them onto the plates. Pulling out his knife, he thinly sliced a mountain of cabbage into the pan and stirred with the spoon to cook it evenly.

Since he didn’t have any herbs, spices, or even salt in the shack, the cabbage looked to be a sadly bland affair until he remembered the Madeira wine Edward brought. Grabbing the bottle from the table, he poured a generous helping in the pan, steam rising into the air, filling the shack with the scent of hot wine. Leaving the cabbage to bubble and cook, he cut thick slices of cheese, and broke the loaf of bread in two, placing it all on the plates.

Edward wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist and kissed his neck, making him jump slightly. “Thatch, I never knew you were so domestic. And _romantic_ . Cooking for _me_.”

Ed snorted and turned his head over his shoulder for a kiss. “I’m an adult, Edward. I know how to feed myself. And I need food to have the strength to ravish you again later. Reckon you do too.” He turned for a proper kiss and then pushed the naked young man towards the little stove. “Stir that pan, will you?” Edward picked up the spoon and moved it through the soft, now reddish brown cabbage. Ed walked over to the stuffed chair and grabbed the flask of oil, pouring some onto his fingers.   
  
Stepping up behind Edward, he wrapped one arm around his chest to stop him jumping into the stove, and slid three fingers to his still oily, loosened rim. He pushed them inside slowly and felt the young man jump at the touch, only to then moan at the slow push of fingers inside his body. Ed hooked his chin over the young man’s shoulder and looked into the pan while scissoring his fingers. “Reckon’ that’s about done. Why don’t you put it on the plates?”

Edward nodded, and picked up the pan, moving slowly as he turned his body to the table and scooped out the stewed cabbage, spooning it onto the plates. Ed was still scissoring and flexing his fingers deep inside, as he slowly turned back to put the pan on the stove. “Close the grate too, or it’ll be unbearably hot in here soon.”

Edward compiled before turning back to the table and placing two palms on the surface awkwardly between the plates. Pushing back into Ed’s fingers, the young man moaned and let his head hang for a moment. “I do appreciate the attention, Thatch, but don’t you think we should eat first? As the food is hot and all…”

Ed wiggled his fingers a bit and kissed the soft, naked shoulder in front of him. “Oh, not to worry. I don’t plan on having you yet. Just don’t want you to tighten up on me again.” He pulled his fingers out and patted Edward’s behind. “Pull your britches on, we’re dining on the porch.”

Edward moaned at the loss of the fingers, and took a moment to compose himself before pushing away from the table and grabbing his breeches by the door. Ed wiped his fingers on the still damp rag before taking a bottle of rum and pulling out two spoons from the cupboard. Walking over to the door and stepped outside, setting the bottle between the two chairs and turning back to the doorway.

Edward was still inside, in his breeches now, but peering out skeptically. “Why outside?”

Ed smiled at him and gestured vaguely around. “To enjoy my porch for possibly the last time. It’s nice. It has chairs and a view. Grass and chickens. Also the shack needs airing out.”

Edward chuckled and grabbed the plates, stepping outside and handing one to Ed, who returned a spoon. They sat in silence for a while, eating their food, watching the chickens, and listened to the sounds of the town around them. It wasn’t yet evening, but it wasn’t far off. They’d managed to sleep and fuck most of the day away. Not bad, but Ed wished for more time.

He was mopping up the remains of his meal with his last bit of bread when Edward called out. “Adé! Over here!”

Looking over, Ed spotted the Jackdaw’s Quartermaster on the path a few yards from the shack. The man saw them and walked over, nodding at them. “Captain Kenway. Captain Thatch.” The Quartermaster turned to speak to Edward and Ed watched their interplay while sipping on the bottle of rum. “I was told I may find you here, Captain. The ship’s repairs are almost complete. We should be ready to leave tomorrow.”

“Really, Adé? That’s surprising, she took a beating in the storm.”

“It was mostly superficial, Captain. But we have also been sped up by our new crew. The men we liberated here around Nassau are most eager to leave as soon as possible, and so have worked hard to get the repairs completed. Also, we had a lot of help from the crew from the Sea Dog’s Bite. I believe that is yours, Captain Thatch? I thank you for the assistance.”

“Oh, they helped, did they? Such helpful lads I’ve got.” He grimaced and lifted the bottle in salute to the Quartermaster before drinking deeply. It was a goddamn conspiracy.

The man looked confused at Ed’s response and glanced at Edward who smiled and shook his head dismissively. “Are we really fully stocked and ready to depart? What about provisions?”

“The Brig was already stocked for the journey to Seville. The only thing we needed were repairs and crew.”

“Ah, right. And what is your impression of the new recruits so far?”

Ed watched as the men talked. There was respect between them, that was obvious. Edward handled his role as tyro Captain well. Taking advice from his Quartermaster without deferring to him or dismissing him. Ed did notice a slight shift in Adéwalé’s body language as the two men spoke. He became tense and Ed saw his eyes slide over Edward’s throat and chest, flicking over to Ed, and back again. The bruises he had made on the young man’s skin were hard to mistake for anything but love bites, and the Quartermaster had clearly just noticed and realized what they meant. Ed wondered if he had some marks he was unaware of, and rubbed his neck.

Adéwalé took his leave, walking off with long strides.

“You tell him about us?”

Edward shook his head with a frown. “No. Why would I? It’s not exactly a secret, sure. But it’s also nobody’s business.”

“Well, he knows now, and seemed a bit rattled by it.”

“What!?”

“Your love bites, lad. All over your throat and chest.”

Edward groaned and shot to his feet. “Thatch! Why did you have to do that?” He disappeared into the shack and reappeared a moment later with his boots on and pulling his shirt over his head.

“Didn’t hear any complaints from you when I made them.”

Edward growled and ran off in the direction his Quartermaster had taken off in. Ed sighed and gathered up their plates and spoons, bringing them inside and dumping them on the table, wondering what fresh trouble they were about to get into because of another prissy busybody. 

Since Edward had left his gear and fancy coat, Ed knew he’d be back, and so he sat down in his chair on the porch, drinking his rum and watching the chickens. Waiting for Edward to return.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I know that there are no hickeys visible on Kenway in the game. This is either because Ubisoft are cowards, or because Kenway is, and put on makeup. You choose. 😉


	11. Tyro Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a long while before the young man came back, long enough that Ed wondered if he should go look for him, in case he lay bleeding in an alley somewhere.
> 
> But, he was alright, unharmed, as he stepped up on the porch and sank back in his chair, snatching the rum out of Ed’s hand and taking a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suffered a little bit of writersblock in the middle of this chapter so it took me a bit longer to finish. Sorry about that.
> 
> This chapter includes a call-back to Celebration, chapter 4. If you haven’t read that or don’t recall it, you might want to peruse it a little before reading this, to help you not break immersion. 
> 
> Just FYI, I’ve added reference photos to chapters 5 and 7. It’s pictures (from the game) of Salt Key Bank, Mr Hands, and Thatch’s shack. I’ve also cleaned up formatting, some spelling errors and stuff.

* * *

It was a long while before the young man came back, long enough that Ed wondered if he should go look for him, in case he lay bleeding in an alley somewhere.

But, he was alright, unharmed, as he stepped up on the porch and sank back in his chair, snatching the rum out of Ed’s hand and taking a drink. “It’s fine. He’s fine. He was just embarrassed because he thought he was interrupting our… alone time. Thought that he wasn’t supposed to know and had been set up, and that I’d be angry.”

“Set up by whom?”

“Hands told him where to find me.”

“Hands! Where does he get off telling…” Ed shot out of his seat but Edward grabbed his breeches and pulled him down again.

“I was wondering the same thing, so I went to find Hands after I’d spoken to Adé.”

“What did he say?”

“That it was a test. Said I shouldn’t have to put up with another Hocking, and that if Adé couldn’t handle having his Captain bed another man, then it was better I found out now.”

“Hrm… Sneaky bastard. Did he happen to say anything about the gracious  _ help _ my crew have been giving yours to get you off the island quicker?”

Edward smiled and shook his head. “He did not, but it was most gracious of them, all the same. Look, Ed, I know you want more  _ time _ . I do too, but as Captain I have other priorities than just myself.”

Ed bit his cheek to stop the smile threatening to erupt. The young man was taking his role seriously, that was good, but his words were amusingly contrary to the reckless and self indulgent man Ed knew, and it made it feel just a little bit like he was a small child in his Pa’s too large boots and too large coat playing pretend. 

“... and Adé was right. It’s best to get our crew away from here for the time being. There’s more than one escaped slave on my ship, and I don’t see the men of Nassau putting up much of a fight if the soldiers decide to round them up and put them back in chains.”

They sat in silence for a while, Ed reevaluating the kind of man the thought Edward was. It wasn’t getting dark yet, but the sun was moving lower in the sky and soon dusk would set in.

Edward shifted in his chair and grimaced. “Ugh. I was squelching like a… I don’t even know… I thought everyone would be able to hear me when I walked.”

Ed coughed in surprise. “Squelching?”

Edward lowered his voice and hissed. “My arse. It’s all wet and loose, like a woman’s... quim. It’s embarrassing.” He made another face and shifted on his seat again.

Ed felt a sudden wave of heat flow into his belly, swelling his member slightly, and he was sure his eyes were getting as dark as Edward’s had been when he’d walked in on Ed washing that morning. Eyes drawn to the young man’s backside, still shifting on the chair, he licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Like a woman, huh?”

Edward looked up at him, cocking his head to the side, studying Ed for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yeah. All wet and open and sloppy… like a woman just dying for the thrust of a man.” He licked his lips and stared intently at Ed who let out a very undignified, strangled sound shot to his feet, walking quickly into the shack.

He heard the door close and turned around. Edward was leaning against it, a slight smirk dancing over his lips. “Really, Thatch? You wish I was a woman? That I had woman parts?”

Ed snorted. “No. Obviously.”

“Right… and this…  _ display _ … is unrelated to me saying I’m wet and loose like a whore?”

Another wave of heat washed down into Ed’s loins and he felt himself swell a little more. Edward noticed and a predatory smile spread across his face. He walked over slowly, swaying his hips exaggeratedly and speaking in a high pitched, sing-song voice. “Oh, I’m just a little french maid, lost and lonely. Help me!” Mirroring the whores beckoning men on the street, he spun in a little circle, waving his arms in the air and giggling. “Will no one come and show me how a proper man loves a woman?”

Ed huffed and grabbed the ridiculous boy by the head, pulling him in for a hard kiss to shut him up. It didn’t quite work, as he was still swaying his hips, waving his arms, and a wide grin was still stretching his lips. “Fool boy.” Ed slid a hand down the back of Edward’s breeches and hooked two fingers into his slicked hole. The young man stopped moving and the grin slackend on his face. Ed kissed the corner of his mouth and wiggled his fingers, making Edward moan and wrap his previously waving arms around Ed’s shoulders.

“Fool boy. You as a woman does not interest me. You slick and loose and ready to take me inside, that interests me. Greatly.” He wiggled his fingers again before he pulled them free, gently cupping Edward’s face, leaving oily traces in his beard. 

Getting a real kiss this time, he tasted the traces of their meal on the young man’s tongue. “Ready to go again?” 

He murmured it against soft, lush lips and felt a sigh puff out. “Yes.”

Ed pulled Edward’s shirt off over his head, and unfastened his breeches, pushing them down his legs. He let the man take them off the rest of the way and unfastened his own, pushing them to the floor and stepping free. Snatching the flask off the table he watched Edward struggle out of his boots, breeches tangled around his legs.

“ _ And _ you’re a fool for thinking that talk of a wet, willing woman wouldn’t arouse me. With or without your oiled arse, wet women are the best kind.” Edward snorted and kicked his foot free. “Though you did dance so pretty. Maybe I’ll put you in a dress and take you dancing at the tavern next time.” The young man smirked and swayed his hips a little again, making his slightly swollen member sway along.

“So, lad, where this time? I take it the porch is not an option?” He watched Edward spin around the room slowly, taking in the few options available in the small space.

“Hm… bed, I think.”

“Then bed it is, lead the way.” Ed gestured with his hand and watched the young man step over to it, somehow managing to bang his foot into the sturdy wooden base. He cursed loudly and gripped his injured foot in his hand, hopping precariously on one leg. Ed swooped in and guided him to sit safely on the bed, rubbing his calves and thighs soothingly, while Edward hissed and cursed.

Eventually, the pain died down and the young man released his injured toes, letting Ed examine them. “No blood or break, at least.”

“No, just wounded pride and a humiliated fool.”

Ed, still kneeling at his feet, gave the young man a kiss. “I’m sure I can find a way to heal your pride and vanish your humiliation.” He stroked his palms over the young man’s thighs as they kissed and then, remembered. Breaking the kiss he looked down, searching the skin of Edward’s leg and found an almost perfect triangle of scarring a few inches above the knee, and touched it with a gentle fingertip.

“I was wondering how your wounds had healed, after I dressed them. Let me see your hand.” Edward opened his palm and Ed traced the thin, silvery scar at the center. “Looks like I did a good job fixing you up.”

Edward nodded and gave him a sad smile. “It’s a strange thing for me, that night. Both one of the most painful things to have happened to me, muddled together with one of my fondest memories.” Ed stood up and pushed Edward to lay down on the bed, stretching himself out next to him, propped on his elbow to listen. “Evans wasn’t really the first man. Some foolish fumblings with the other boys as a kid. Some sad, lonely fumblings with a crewman or two on the Emperor. But those were all because there were no options, no women. Evens was the first who just wanted  _ me _ , not in lieu of a woman. He didn’t close his eyes and imagined something else. He didn’t push away and pretended nothing had happened until next time it got too lonely or frustrating. And he kissed me. On purpose. Didn’t mind the beard.”

Edward smiled a little wistfully, stroking his chin. “Hadn’t kissed, been kissed for… months. Not since my wife and she hadn’t... Didn’t realize how much I missed it, until he… But he kept clean shaven mostly, so it didn’t really feel much different from kissing a woman. Sometimes I let myself pretend it was her, Caroline. I feel a little guilty about that now…” Ed stroked his hand over Edward’s arm, soothing and encouraging. “Then that night… my chest ached like all my ribs had cracked, but I was so strangely numb, too. Then we kissed and there was no pretending or mistaking that for a woman. No mistaking that for Evans. I was kissing a  **man** , and even with all the aching and numbness, it felt so  _ good _ .” 

Edward reached out and stroked Ed’s chin. “That night, I tried sleeping and was hurting for Evans, but all the while, my lips just kept tingling and buzzing. After we got to Nassau, and I’d had a few women to slake that thirst… It was late at night, I was a bit drunk. There was a man, ‘bout my age, big beard. He was talking to me, complementing, asking if I wanted… It was late and dark and no one around. I let him pull me into an alley… cup me and kiss me with that wild, messy beard.”

Ed felt a surge of jealousy. Edward had gone with another man in Nassau, while Ed was left with… nothing but with watching him with girl after girl on his lap. Edward smiled ruefully. “Turns out,  _ who _ you kiss matters. Didn’t feel nearly as good with him, so I begged off. He was nice about it, when I said I couldn’t do it…” The young man leaned in and kissed him, and then let his soft lips rub against Ed’s hairy cheek. “I’m sorry Ed. I got a little scared then. I had all these women, not to mention my wife waiting at home, and that should have been enough, but then sometimes I wanted  _ nothing _ but to kiss you, taste you, have you. I was barely even sparing poor Evans a thought, it was just you. I felt like a stupid, lovesick puppy, nosing after someone who probably didn’t even care that much.”

The jealousy washed out of Ed’s chest and he was pushed into his back, as Edward moved to straddle him. The young man’s hands slid through the dark hair over his stomach and chest. “So I chased the girls. Enjoyed that plenty, to be truthful. Then only figured out that you did care and did want me too late.”

Ed rested his hands on Edward’s hips, stroking with gentle fingers. The young man lent down and kissed him, stroking his fingers over his bearded cheeks. “I knew you didn’t approve of Bramah, but I didn’t really understand how much, and why. Or that you were so worried for  _ me _ . That last day… I kept looking for you, to say goodbye, to thank you for letting me serve on your ship, teaching me to sail and fight. The later it got, the more I thought… I’m leaving, just one more time won’t hurt. Doesn’t matter if I enjoy it more than you, or enjoy it for different reasons. Wasn’t until I stepped into your room, with bottles like the usual excuse back on the ship… not until then did I realize, but then we were almost out of time, and couldn’t...”

Ed let his hands slide up Edward’s back and pulled him down for another kiss. “At least we have time for a proper goodbye this time.”

* * *

They kissed for a long time, Ed’s palms stroking over the smooth skin of the young man’s back and shoulders, Edward cupping his face, fingers playing in his beard, as the sun moved lower in the sky and dusk settled outside.

Slowly, the kiss grew deeper, their breathing heavier, and their members swelled again, until they lay hard and aching between their stomachs. Edward was undulating his hips, dragging his leaking shaft through the soft hair on Ed’s belly, and Ed moved his hands down to massage and squeeze the firm buttocks, letting his fingers slip into the cleft to caress the still oily crevice and further to tease at the opening. The young man responded with moaned encouragement, and Ed let go with one hand to grab for the flask of oil he’d left on the floor.

Not finding it, he sat up and searched the floor, spotting it at the foot of the bed where the boy had banged his toe. “Come on, son, move off. I can’t reach the oil.” Edward slid off to the side and Ed reached over, picking the flask up. He turned his head back and saw the young man standing on all fours in the middle of the bed, head turned back to look at Ed with a smile.

He wasted no time to position himself behind the young man and opened the flask, pouring a measure at the top of the cleft and letting it run down to his waiting fingers. Pushing two inside, he tested the opening. Not tight, but not loose enough just yet. Scooping up more of the oil onto his fingers, he scissored them for a few minutes and then added the third.

Edward was looking back at him, biting his lip, his back arched and he had widened his stance when Ed added the third finger. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide open, locked with Ed’s own, and Ed knew what he wanted. “You look so good like this, Edward. Seeing your broad, strong back, the muscles in your shoulders and arms. Feeling you around my fingers, holding me tight, but yielding, letting me in. Can’t wait to get inside you again.” 

The young man moaned at his words, and Ed scissored his fingers wide, listening to Edward’s groan, watching as his eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, before focusing back on Ed’s. “Thatch… stop teasing. I feel like we’re wasting time like this.”

He stopped moving his hand, surprised. “That wasn’t my intention, lad. Just to not cause pain.”

Edward nodded his head and pushed himself back into Ed’s fingers. “Yeah, I know, but considering the circumstances, I wouldn’t mind wincing with every step for a week after we part ways.”

Ed pulled his fingers out and picked up the flask of oil again, pouring some directly onto his member and dropping the stoppered bottle back onto the bed, while spreading the oil with his free hand. Pressing the tip to the waiting hole, he paused looking up for confirmation, but Edward wasn’t looking back at him anymore. His stance had widened a little bit more, and his back and neck were arched back in anticipation of Ed pushing inside.

Holding his member firmly in his hand and flexing his hips, Ed watched as Edward’s body yielded for him, letting the slick, oiled head sink inside, and moaned at the delicious, sinful sight and feeling. Edward moaned too and arched his back even more, like a cat waking up from a nap in the sun.

Ed let go of his member and took hold of the young man’s hips, thrusting himself in slowly. Edward whined and tried to push back to impale himself, but Ed held firm. “Stop that, boy. I’m trying to savour the moment.” His words made the young man still his movement at least, and he continued his slow push inside, sheathing his member like a sword into its scabbard. Once fully inside, he took a moment to revel in the feeling of the tight, soft, hot press all around his shaft. It felt so  _ good _ , so  _ right _ , and he tried to capture and keep the sensation in his memory.

He made the pull out of Edward just as slow and long, but then pushed back inside with a firm, fast stroke, making the young man gasp and groan. He stroked his rough palms over the firm buttocks and soft lower back, before gripping the rounded hips again and started to thrust, searching for the right angle. Once he found it, the young man let out a triumphant but breathless moan. “Hard, Thatch. Take me hard, make me feel it for a week.”

Ed moaned at the words too and set a hard, fast pace, aiming for Edward’s gland with each stroke. The sensation was exquisite, driving himself deep into the tight but welcoming body, feeling his sack swing and smack into Edward’s with each thrust, hearing the young man’s loud moans becoming louder and louder, and Ed knew it wouldn’t take much longer.

Edward’s arms buckled under him and he pitched forward, face buried in the bedding. The change in position was clearly a good one though, as his moans shifted into deeper groans, shouts of encouragement, and Ed’s name, all muffled slightly by the bedding in the young man’s mouth. 

The sun was setting outside and they hadn’t lit a lamp, so the room was dim and getting darker, but Ed could still see the beautiful expanse of skin in front of him, muscles working in counterpoint to each of his thrusts. He wanted more, to get in closer, and bent down, moulding his chest to Edward’s back, burying his face in his shoulder, sucking kisses into the skin.

The new position shortened his thrusts to almost nothing, but the feel and taste and smell of the youth beneath him pushed him ever closer to his release anyway. He pushed a hand in underneath them and captured the hard, leaking member, pumping it fast, trying to bring Edward’s release forward as quickly as his own. His reward was a long, deep groan from deep within the young man’s chest and the rhythmic clenching of muscles around his member, just as his own seed started to flow out of him.

They moaned and rocked together until completely spent, and Ed rolled to the side, pulling Edward with him and clutched him to his chest. He panted into the messy blond hair, and felt the corresponding rise and fall of the young man’s chest, which was slick with sweat and, Ed realized then, the man’s release which had caught in his hand and between his fingers, and was now unwittingly smearing into the smooth skin. 

He mumbled an apology into the sweaty locks, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess here.” and flexed his fingers for emphasis. Edward glanced down and huffed out a breathless laugh before grabbing Ed’s hand and pulling it up to suck on his fingers and tongue his palm.

Ed pulled him tighter with his other arm and buried his face in the long, exposed neck, biting the skin and sucking kisses. Edward moaned around his fingers and pulled them out of his mouth. “Stop that. You’re gonna make look like…” He trailed off as Ed sealed his lips over the boy’s pulse point and sucked hard. Licking soothingly over the delicious skin Ed smiled and spoke in a husky whisper right into the delicate shell of the ear, just by his lips. “You’re already mottled with bruises and bitemarks, a few more won’t hurt now. And they make you feel so good.” He emphasised his point by sucking another bruise and hearing the soft moan that followed.

Edward didn’t argue, but went back to licking at Ed’s soiled palm until it was clean again. Then the young man pushed his face into the pillow and mumbled something too muffled to make out, while pushing his hips back into Ed. “What was that, son?”

Edward lifted slightly from the pillow, but kept his face turned away, and pushed Ed’s hand down and back. “Do the thing…” He let go of the hand near his hip and mumbled again, almost inaudible. “... feed me.”

Ed felt a sharp, hot surge in his loins, which surely would have sprung his spent member right back up again if he were a younger man. Instead, he moaned and kissed the exposed neck again, while his hand moved in between their bodies to slip into the mess in the young man’s cleft. “Don’t feel shame, Edward. We’re just hornery fools with filthy minds who found each other.” He slid two fingers inside the still loose and oily opening and pushed them into the slick seed that was just beginning to spill out. He brought the coated fingers up to Edward and waited until he turned his face from the pillow and took them into his mouth.

“It’s just the two of us here, and we can be as filthy as we like, no one will know and we’re not hurting anybody.” Ed pulled his fingers free and brought them down to scoop up more milky seed to feed to the man in his arms. They fell asleep like that, Ed holding Edward tight to his chest, his fingers resting on a softly undulating tongue, the sucktion getting lighter and lighter as his lover drifted away into sleep.

* * *

It was still dark when Ed woke up next, but he thought the sky outside the windows might be lightening just a smidge. With a sense of deja vu, this awakening was also tinged with confusion and pleasure, but of a much more intense variety. His mind snapped into place and his hands flew to Edward’s hips above him. The young man was straddling his hips and in the process of sinking down onto Ed’s member.

Ed couldn’t see anything above him in the dark, but heard Edward’s panting breaths as he worked to impale himself. He bent his knees and thrust his hips up, helping to push himself all the way inside. Edward leaned forward and cupped Ed’s face, giving him deep, wet kisses while undulating and bouncing his hips, and Ed responded by wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around the young man’s shoulders. It felt amazing, dreamlike and intimate, like they were wrapped inside a dark little cocoon. Ed thrust up hard and fast and Edward met him with equal fervor, their kiss never breaking more than to let gasps and moans escape.

It did not take them long to finish, Ed’s hips stuttering into Edward, and the boy’s release shooting out between their bodies, reaching all the way up to their throats. The young man collapsed on top of him, burying his face in Ed’s neck and panting for breath. “Oh, Thatch, I’m really going to feel that tomorrow.”

Ed smiled and wrapped his arms around the man tighter, slipping back into sleep.

* * *

Ed didn’t sleep for very long, so it was still early morning when he woke up again with his bladder protesting as usual. Edward was still mostly laying on top of him, and dried seed glued their chests together. Ed shifted the boy to the side and winced at the pinching pull on his chest hair when they peeled apart.

There was nothing for it, he needed another bath before he could go out to meet Hands, so he lit the stove and went to pour water into the pan, only to find the jug mostly empty. With a deep sigh, he pulled on breeches and his shirt and grabbed a bucket before stepping outside.

He relieved himself by the porch and then walked around the corner to the well. It was still early, and few people were moving in the street, so he encountered no one he knew when he in his state of relative undress, and reeking of semen, musk, and sweat, hauled his water out of the well and quickly stalked back to his shack. 

The stove was hot when he returned, and he put the pan in place, pouring it full of water. Ed was filthy, but Edward was worse and would need plenty of water and soap to get the seed and oil completely off his skin.

Waiting for the water to heat, Ed grabbed a bottle of wine and drank deeply before rooting through the cupboard for something to eat. Pulling out a wedge of cheese and a guava, he took hungry bites in between stripping off his clothes and hanging them off a chair. Steam was rising from the pan so he quickly shaved some soap into the bowl and poured in the warm water. There was still plenty of water left in the pan, and Ed put it back in the stove, but shut the grate to kill the flames.

He scrubbed himself with the warm, soapy water, ridding himself of the grime from their activities, but also, he thought with a sentimental pang, Edward’s smell. A movement from the bed made him turn, and watched as the young man stood up, eyes dark with desire, member already swollen in sleep growing further, “Thatch… there’s something about watching you wash that just makes me… Keep going.”

He licked his lips and stopped a pace away, staring intently at the rag as Ed stroked himself clean. Ed was just beginning to clean his crotch, seeing Edward’s member slowly grow from swollen to erect, and hearing the young man’s breathing grow heavier, when the door to the shack flew open. 

“Thatch! Stop hiding in here! I know you’re up and dressed, I saw you at the well. We need to…” Hornigold stood in the door, words trailing off as his face shifted into an expression of horror. Ed was standing turned away from the door, naked but relatively shielded. Edward, however, was facing the intruder, and Ed knew just what Ben was seeing.

Edward's chest and throat was unmistakably smeared with semen and covered all over with bitemarks and bruises, and of course, the crowning glory, his large, erect member, bobbing slightly from the sudden start Ben’s entrance gave the young man. Ben let out an undignified shout and whipped around, fleeing out the door. “Ah! I’m blind! My eyes! I’m blind!”

Edward laughed and called after him, “Come on, Ben! It’s nothing dangerous, only a bit of God’s creation!” The young man slammed the door and turned back to Ed, who had not moved, more from shock than embarrassment, and draped himself over his back, hooking his chin over Ed’s shoulder and pushed his hard member into the small of his back. “Keep going.”

Ed washed his member and sack thoroughly, half-heartedly wishing he could harden again to match the erection painting a wet pattern into the skin above his buttocks, but it would not happen. He needed more time to recover, and he couldn’t take that time because of his promise to Hands. Reluctantly, he stepped out of Edward’s arms, swiping the rag over his lower back quickly before dropping it into the bowl. “I can’t really… I promised Hands, and anyway, I’d need more time before I could…”

Edward smiled at him with gleaming eyes and licked his lips. “I’m sure I could help with that.”

Ed watched the pink tongue glide over those plump, inviting lips and swallowed. “I can’t. I’d never leave here and Hands would take off with my ship.” The young man licked his lips again, slowly this time, seemingly just to taunt and tease. Ed looked away towards the stove. “You should wash. I heated enough water for you too.”

Edward sighed softly. “No, I need to sleep a bit more before I start the day.” He reached out and circled his fingers gently around Ed’s wrist. “Will you help put me back to sleep? It’s so  _ hard _ to sleep like this.” He tilted his head and waited for Ed, who swallowed again. Of course he wanted to make the boy spill himself one last time before they had to part, but could he pull away and leave after that? “I promise I won’t touch you.” Edward’s voice was half teasing, half reassuring. 

Ed huffed, no touches from Edward, as if that were a positive. He grabbed him for a fast deep kiss and then pushed him away. “Get on the bed, son, and I’ll help put you to sleep.”

The young man grinned and complied, scooting to the middle of the bed and laying down on his back. Determined to make it good, but quick, Ed sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the flask of oil, pouring a little into his palm, which he then wrapped around Edward’s hard member and pumped it fast and firm, while the young man gasped and moaned.

Ed kept his eyes on the beautiful face, watching the play of pleasure over the handsome features, and tried to ignore any stirring desires in himself. He had to walk out of that door right after this, or lose his ship and crew. Edward was tantalising, delicious, and more compelling and attractive to Ed than he had any right to be, but he was not worth losing his entire profession over. Especially not since Ed  _ knew _ Edward wouldn’t give it all up for him.

A hand crept onto his thigh, and he grabbed it, putting it back on the bed, gently but firmly. Edward gave a breathy chuckle, and Ed retaliated by adding a twist to his strokes and a swipe of his thumb over the crown, making the blond head arch back in pleasure. Edward’s hips were lifting to meet each stroke, and his moans were getting faster and louder. He was getting very close, and on impulse, Ed leaned down and sucked the slick head into his mouth. The move made Edward cry out and his hips bucked wildly, his release flowing into Ed’s mouth, who swallowed repeatedly until the man was finished, but felt some of it leak out onto his lips and chin.

Lifting his head, he saw the young man staring at him with a blissful smile, and he leaned in, capturing the parted lips in a deep kiss, strong arms coming up to clutch at his head. They kissed deeply for a few minutes until Edward’s hands slipped down onto the bed and his lips became slack with sleep. Ed pulled away and looked at the sleeping man. It really was indecent how handsome he was, and even the broken nose and scars did nothing to diminish that fact.

He stood up and walked back to the table, picking up the rag and scrubbing his hands and face clean again, before getting dressed. He drank some wine and looked back at the bed and the young man sleeping soundly on it, chest rising and falling slowly, full lips still glistening from their kiss, eyelashes sweeping over high cheekbones. Ed put the bottle down on the table and forced himself to turn around and walk out the door.

* * *

He walked to the tavern and looked around for Hands, even though he was sure his FIrst Mate wouldn’t be there quite so early. He was right of course, Hands was nowhere to be seen, but a few of his crewmen were seated at a table, and he greeted them on the way over to the barkeep where he ordered an ale.

“Captain, is it true we’re setting out tomorrow?”

He raised his tankard at the men and grinned. “Aye, it is indeed true, barring foul weather, we are leaving come first light. So you boys better squeeze in as much of this island’s offerings as you can before time’s up.” They cheered and drank, and Ed took a deep pull of ale. “I was planning on meeting with Hands here to discuss our plans, but I reckon it’s a bit early for him still... Have any of you seen Hornigold?”

One of his men nodded and pointed down towards the shore. “Aye, saw him walk down to the water a while ago. May still be there.”

Ed drained his tankard and nodded. “Right. Tell Hands I’m down there with Hornigold if he shows up before I return.”

* * *

He walked down to the beach and spotted his old friend sitting on a log, smoking his pipe and staring at the ships in the bay. “Morning, Ben.”

His friend started a bit and looked over, face morphing into an uncomfortable grimace. “Thatch…” His face blazed red and he spat on the ground, avoiding Ed’s eyes. “... sorry, about earlier. I wasn’t thinking.”

Ed sat down in the sand and looked out at the ships, grin wide on his face. “You’re just lucky you didn’t walk in on anything more involved. A few more minutes and you would’ve.”

Ben groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s his last night, I just figured that boy would’ve been knee deep in whores at the brothel all night, and then I saw you walking around, dressed…” Ben glanced over, apologetic. 

Ed took on a look of mock offence. “I am more than capable of caring for the boy’s needs, thank you very much. No whores required.”

Ben groaned again. “Shut up.” He was quiet for a while. “You really did a number on him, he looked worse than any two bit whore I’ve ever seen.”

Ed chortled and slapped his knee. “Worse?! Good you mean! He looked like a man who had been thoroughly pleasured for hours and was eager for more. If you’ve never seen a woman looking like that, then you’ve never properly pleasured a woman, Benny-boy.”

Ed grinned at his friend’s scowl and they sat silently for several long minutes, until Ed spoke again, serious. “Why didn’t you tell me, Ben?” He was solemn now, all traces of teasing gone. “Why didn’t you tell me I was this close to losing my ship and crew?”

His friend was silent for a bit longer, staring at the water. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure you wanted it anymore, Thatch. What with your homey little shack, and waxing poetically over grass and chickens and your solitude.”

Ed felt an indignant surge. “I do  _ not _ wax poetically!” But then sighed and inclined his head. “But I take your point. I did lose myself for a bit there. Reckon I’ve never gotten so close to losing something I  _ really _ cared about before. Didn’t know how it would hit me.”

Ben nodded and they sat silent for a bit longer, before Ben spoke again. “Since Kenway is setting sail again today, and being a tyro Captain with an unfamiliar crew... “ Ed nodded and his friend continued. “Reckon I should join him for a spell, teach him how to be a good Captain. He crewed for Bramah longer than he did for you, and I’m worried he might have picked up some unsavoury habits from that scoundrel.”

Ed thought privately that Kenway probably was alright, despite the boy’s own admission that he had changed under Bramah. He had an unwavering core of  _ decency _ within him, that Ed didn’t think even Bramah could budge, but still, it wouldn’t hurt for Ben to supervise just for a bit, so he nodded. “Aye, that may be a good idea. Take care not to imply he’s too weak or soft to handle it himself, though, or he’s apt to kill you just to prove a point.”

Ben nodded and set about emptying his pipe, tapping it on the log to get all the old tobacco out, while Ed continued. “Did you hear about Bramah?” The other man raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Dead. Along with every crewman. The magazine exploded, sinking the ship with all hands, only Kenway survived.”

Ben whistled, “That boy has some special kind of luck”, then he snorted out a laugh, “Good riddance. I can’t imagine any of those shites were a loss to anyone.”

* * *

They sat and spoke for a couple of hours more, Ben had refilled his pipe and was puffing on it while musing on the things he wanted to make sure Kenway learned on their trip. In the corner of his eye, he saw Kenway in his blue and white coat, walking down to the beach. “Speak of the devil, here comes out Tyro Captain now.”

Ed tried to watch the man subtly through the corner of his eye, and thought there was a distinct stiffness to his walk, his stance a bit wider than usual. He tried to suppress a smirk as Kenway walked up and stood on the sand between them. “Mornin’, Kenway.” He couldn’t help it, his words sounded teasing even when he tried not to. 

Ben gave him a glance and interrupted anything else that might be coming for either man. “Not a bad looking tinderbox you’ve got there.”

Ed noted the lack of apology or even acknowledgement of his intrusion that morning. Evidently, Kenway did too, because he stepped closer to the man, placing his crotch in direct line of sight and answered with a teasing double entendre. “You sound a bit green, Hornigold. Is it envy? Because mine’s bigger than yours?”

Ben grimaced and looked over at Ed who grinned back. Served him right for barging in like that. Hornigold sighed and soldiered on with his plan to inform Kenway that he would be joining him and  _ teaching him to Captain right _ .

Kenway gave Ed an exasperated look, but joined Ben in pushing the nearby boat into the water, to take them to the ship. Ed knew the young man was in for an hour or two of Ben walking around the ship having  _ opinions _ and giving advice, which he was sure would just delight Kenway and his crew to no end. Ed got to his feet and walked back to the tavern, where he’d hopefully find Hands.

His first mate was seated at a table with a tankard and a bowl of stew, and Ed lifted a hand at him as he walked over to the barkeep to order his own tankard. Adéwalé was standing there, looking uncomfortable. “Captain Thatch, I…”

Ed held up his hand to stop whatever apology was coming. “Not to worry, Mr Adéwalé. No harm’s been done.” The other man nodded and relaxed a little bit, and Ed continued. “I saw Kenway down at the shore just now. Seems Hornigold will be joining you all on the Jackdaw for a spell...” He saw the Quartermaster’s eyes widen and a slight frown appear around his mouth. “... which I’m sure will be a delightful learning experience for everyone. They’re taking a boat out to the ship right now.”

Adéwalé grimaced and nodded before disappearing down the steps of the tavern, presumably to make his way over to the ship as well. Ed walked over and joined Hands. “Nasty little trick you pulled on him yesterday.”

Hands shrugged his shoulders. “Like I told Kenway, best to know right away what kind of man you’re dealing with. I’ve got friends on the Jackdaw now, don’t want them  _ or _ Kenway to have to suffer anything like Hocking again.” He paused to eat a bit of his stew before continuing. “He seems a good man though. Competent sailor and Quartermaster. Got to speak to him quite a bit while…” he trailed off and met Ed’s gaze evenly.

“While you volunteered my crew to repair the Jackdaw so it could set sail again quicker.”

“Yes. It was best for everyone.”

Ed grunted, “Damn conspiracy.”, but he smiled at his First Mate, who smiled back.

They set about making their plans and discussing strategies, and Ed kept his back to the sea, to ensure he didn’t see the Jackdaw sail off, and his crew didn’t see him staring and think he was pining.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Kenway’s little impression of a whore, I stole some of the stock phrases the english speaking “dancers” use all over the AC4, so that is authentic.
> 
> Oh, and btw, I’ve completely forgotten to mention that in the universe where this takes place, there are no bowel movements. Not sure if that’s AU from the game, but I doubt it, unless any of you has encountered evidence to the contrary? Either way, it certainly makes butt sex easier and less messy, if nothing else. (the purpose of said butt is up for debate though, as is what happens to the food eaten. in game and in this story. magic?)


	12. Ceremonies

* * *

Thatch and his Sea Dog’s Bite made it to Salt Key Bank before Ben and Kenway, but not by much. On the way, they had managed to raid two ships in quick succession and his crew were in high spirits.

Truth be told, so was Ed. It wasn’t until he set foot back onto his ship that he realized how much he had missed the sea. That first day, he had spent all his available time standing on deck, feeling the wind ruffle his hair, taking deep lungfuls of fresh, salty air.

As the sun had set that first evening, Hands came up and stood by his side on the quarterdeck. “You missed it, didn’t you, Captain?”

He had glanced to the man at his side and nodded. “Aye, I did.”

They had stood silently and watched the sun slip beneath the horizon, glorious colors painted over the sky and mirrored in the water. As the darkness settled around them, Ed leaned closer to his First Mate and spoke in a low voice. “If I’m ever that foolish again, just thump me on the head and carry me onboard. The sea air will remind me who I am.”

Now they were docked docked, but there were no grumblings from the crew about making port so soon after their months in Nassau. No, they had cargo to tell and victories to celebrate, so his crew were laughing and animated.

The second ship they had raided had been carrying spices and wine, and now the Sea Dog’s Bite was enveloped by a miasma of clove, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It filled their heads and moses with the thick, cloying scent and Ed was strongly reminded of the time he had been with Edward in his cabin, their clothing pushed aside, members in hand, watching each other’s pleasure build up and spill over.

Even the wine they had taken was of a similar kind, thick and rich with flavour, and Ed put aside a few bottles for himself, intent on sharing them with Kenway and reminisce about the past.

* * *

Ed made his way up to the tavern, accompanied by Hands who jested about defending his Captain against any roaming goats. His First Mate’s smile was wide and carefree, and Ed could see that the weight and tension that had been present in Nassau now was gone, so he smiled back and joked along, and bought a round for everyone once he’d made it safely to the barkeep.

They spent a long time drinking, and dancing, and reveling in being somewhere other than Nassau for a change. In the late evening, Ed moved to the brothel, where he spent the night, only emerging around midday, and blinking in the bright sunshine.

He saw the Jackdaw docked next to his own Sea Dog, its crew just securing the moorings and preparing to unload their cargo. Sitting on the beach in Nassau, he and Ben had made plans for what they would do once they met back up in Salt Key, so Ed hung back and waited for Hornigold to lead Kenway to the tavern for a celebratory drink.

It was a bit pompous, perhaps, to have a ceremonious induction of a Captain into their ranks, and bestow him with his own flag. But this and the signing of the Articles were the only official or ceremonial things they had as a Brethren, so why not indulge?

Ed walked down to the dock and boarded his ship. He kept the flag meant for Kenway in his cabin and slipped inside to collect it, hoisting the rolled-up cloth over his shoulder. Walking over to the Jackdaw, he looked around until he spotted Adéwalé standing at the stern directing his crew and walked over.

“Captain Thatch, welcome. Captain Kenway isn’t here. He left with Captain Hornigold.”

Ed nodded, “Aye, I know. It’s you I’ve come to see.”

The Quartermaster eyed him and the rolled up cloth suspiciously. “Is that so? What is it you need me for, Captain Thatch?”

Ed explained about the little flag ceremony they had planned, and Adéwalé sent a crewman up the mast with the new flag. The youth would wait until he saw Ben and Kenway approach before raising the cloth, to give the whole proceeding a little bit of surprise for their newest Captain.

Ed went to stand on the dock to wait for the two men, looking at the Jackdaw. It really was a beautiful ship Kenway had acquired, and Ed hoped the young sailor knew that and would take care to preserve that beauty.

He saw the flag being raised and waited until he heard Ben’s voice before turning around, seeing Kenway falter a bit in his step as he looked up and saw the new flag flying over his ship. Ben pushed the young man to keep walking and they stopped next to Ed.

He had been practising his little speech in his head, and hoped no one would ever know that fact, but he was feeling a bit emotional, truth be told. When he’d met Kenway, he was just a little pup who’d barely found his sea legs yet, hardly knew how to sail, and couldn’t handle sword or pistol worth a damn.

Regardless of their personal relationship, the young man had made a remarkable journey and grown more in skill and competence than Ed could have thought possible. Now he was his own Captain, already with an impressive reputation, respect from his crew, and aspirations to take his role and its responsibilities seriously.

And Ed wouldn’t have to  _ worry _ about Kenway’s treatment under another Captain anymore.

“We fly no colours out here, but praise the lack of them. So let the Black Flag signal nothing but your Allegiance to Man’s natural freedoms. This one’s yours. Fly it proud.”

  


He rested his hand heavy on Kenway’s shoulder and squeezed the muscle to emphasise his words, hoping to convey his pride in the man. Ben clapped Kenway on the other shoulder and left, calling over his shoulder at them, “Come on, we’re celebrating. First round’s on me.”

They stood there a bit longer, gazing up at the ship, Ed’s hand still resting on the shoulder beside him. “She really is a beauty, Kenway. I’d like to have a tour sometime.” He squeezed the shoulder again before letting go, giving the young man a meaningful look.

Kenway smiled and nodded. “Aye, that can be arranged. Tonight after we’re done at the tavern.”

* * *

Ben kept his promise and had bought a round when they showed up at the tavern, and Ed bought some food to break his fast. Soon, Kenway disappeared with a pretty young woman for a while, and Ed was reminded that save for a quick visit to the brothel on the first day, the young man had spent all his time while in Nassau in Ed’s bed, so he had not had a chance to sate his hunger for woman until now. Whereas Ed had spent his last few hours in Nassau with Antonia, enjoying her soft, voluptuous femininity. Not to mention how pleasurably he’d spent last night.

He sat with Ben who talked about his impression ofKenway as a Captain. “He's decent, I’ll give him that. Took down those ships easy as you like. Good fighter. But he hands over much of the duties to the Boatswain and that Quartermaster of his,” Ed noted the disdain in Ben’s voice with displeasure, but let him finish. “and he keeps insisting on taking the helm himself. It’s not proper for the Captain, the crew’ll think he’s just one of them.”

Ed sighed and shook his head. “He  _ is _ just one of them, Ben. We’re pirates, not Navy. And what of it if he gives duties to Adéwalé and Jack? He likes the helm, and you said it, he’s a damn good fighter. That’s what a pirate Captain needs. Fight and a thirst for gold, and Kenway has both in spades.” Ben’s lip curled at the mention of the Quartermaster’s name and Ed plowed on. “And Adéwalé is a good Quartermaster. He has more experience as a pirate than Kenway does, and his temperament is a good counterbalance to Kenway’s recklessness.”

Hornigold snorted and waved a dismissive hand as he got up from the table and walked off with a pretty girl of his own.

Ed finished and went up to the bar, fetching two fresh tankards. He walked over to where Adéwalé sat and motioned for the other crew to move to another table. Lowering himself into the chair opposite, he set a tankard down in front of the other man. “Nice trip, was it?”

The Quartermaster grimaced and drained his own tankard before wrapping his hand around the new one offered by Ed. “We did take some decent prices.”

“Aye, that you did. But sadly, the running of the ship and crew wasn’t good enough and much improvement could be made somehow. That about right?” Adéwalé nodded and Ed continued. “And all these friendly suggestions were delivered to the Captain and the Boatswain, rather than the Quartermaster as would be proper?”

Adéwalé met his gaze with a firm, steely glint in his eyes. “Yes, Captain Thatch, that’s the gist of it. Captain Hornigold does not like me, and has spent much of the trip undermining me to the crew.”

Ed shook his head in commiseration. “That sounds about right for Ben, I’m afraid.” 

He noticed the other man relax slightly, which made his anger all the more apparent.  “It would have been proper for Kenway to refer Hornigold to me, but he didn’t.”

Kenway looks up to Ben, like a mentor. It’s difficult to realize that someone you once looked up to isn’t the way you thought they were. And even more difficult to stand up to them.”

Adéwale grimaced again, but nodded at the truth of Ed’s words. “It would have been more helpful if you had joined us instead, if we did need to be supervised.”

“Mmm, that may be, but if I had joined you, I would have lost my ship and crew to mutiny.” The Quartermaster bowed his head in acknowledgement and they sat silent for a spell, drinking their rum.

“Do you know why Ben felt it was necessary to join Kenway and teach him how to Captain right?” Adéwalé shook his head. “When Kenway first took to sea, it was as a Privateer, but he was soon pressed into piracy by his own Captain, who by all accounts was a brutal man. He joined my crew after just a couple of months, and even if my Captaning style is different, I’m ashamed to say that a similar kind of brutality was found on my ship as well.”

Ed paused for a drink and to collect his thoughts. He wanted to tell Adéwalé what he needed to know, without divulging things Kenway would want kept secret. “After the treaty, he joined a Captain and crew renowned for their violence and brutality, both to their captives and on their own ship. Not because he’s an unnecessarily violent and brutal man himself, but he needed the gold. Kenway stayed with them a long time, and your Jackdaw is the first ship he’s served on since then.”

Adéwalé was listening intently, as evidently, most of this was news to him. “Ben’s on the ship to make sure Kenway hasn’t picked up any nasty habits, now that he’s responsible for a crew of his own. For all Ben’s faults, he is not cruel and savage to his crew and captives.”

They continued speaking and before long, Kenway reentered the tavern, his face lighting up when he saw the two men sitting together in easy conversation. He bought a round and joined them at the table, where the three of them spent the rest of the day drinking and trading stories.

* * *

When the sun sank low and their conversation tapered off, Kenway got a wistful smile on his face and turned to Ed. “Time for a tour of my ship now, I think?”

Ed nodded and got to his feet, watching Adéwalé duck his head to hide a smile in his tankard.

They walked together through the village down to the docks, not touching, but comfortably close. Kenway still had that wistful smile. “It feels like an eternity since we were here last.”

Ed huffed out a breath, “Close enough.” and then he laughed. “Do you know how embarrassing it was to walk back onto my ship in the state I was in? Hands still teases about protecting me from goats.”

Kenway laughed brightly, but quieted when he saw an older woman standing near the docks. She was a whore and smiled at them both, beckoning them closer. To Ed’s complete surprise, the young man stepped away from him and towards the woman. “Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Ed’s surprise slowed his steps to not quite standstill, and watched as Kenway hurried up to the woman, speaking to her. He couldn’t hear them, but saw her listen to and then smile at the young man, patting him motherly on his cheek. Kenway pressed some coin into her hand, to which she seemed to protest, but he was already walking away back to Ed, who didn’t even try pretending he had not been watching the exchange. “What was that about?”

Kenway looked embarrassed, but straightened his back and continued their walk with his head held high. “She helped me last time I was here. Didn’t handle myself as well as I usually do, and… well, I needed to thank her is all.”

Ed suspected that explanation left out  _ a lot _ , especially considering Kenway’s state of mind when he had reunited with Ed that night in the rain.

They came up on their ships and it was Ed’s turn to send the other man ahead. “Go on, I need to collect something from the Dog. I’ll see you in your cabin in a couple of minutes?” Kenway nodded and Ed lengthened his steps to get quickly to his own cabin. Inside, he took off his weapons, hat, waist sash, and coat, hanging them on the wall. He pulled his cravat free and tossed it on the desk before rolling up his sleeves. It was as informal he could get without borrowing clothes from his crew.

Grabbing two bottles of the thick, rich wine and made his way over to the Jackdaw. Most of the crew were up in the village or down below deck, but the few who remained noted him boarding their ship, and when they recognized him, turned away to give him privacy to slip into Kenway’s cabin.

* * *

Inside, Edward had removed his weapons, but was otherwise fully dressed. He was standing by his desk looking at some maps, and turned when Ed entered.

Trying to channel the happy young man who came into his cabin two years ago, Ed smiled and held up the wine. “Found these in the hold of the last ship we took, thought you might like some, Captain Kenway.”

For just a moment, the young man looked stunned, but then a slow smile spread over his face and he leaned against his desk, arms crossed and looking at Ed by the door. Still aiming for light and happy, Ed continued. “Where do you want these, Captain?”

Edward smiled indulgent at him and jerked his head to the desk behind him. “You can put them right here on the desk.” Ed walked up and put the bottles down, then paused for just a second to see if Edward wanted to continue the charade, but the young man hooked an arm around his neck and dragged him closer. “Is this you telling me you want to be my  _ boy _ , Thatch?”

Edward’s eyes were crinkled and shining with amusement. Ed smiled back and rested his hands on the other man’s hips. “No, though I’m sure that would be an interesting experience. No, this is my way of telling you that we should celebrate. You’re a Captain now. Have your own ship. Good one, too.”

Edward’s smile got wider and he rested both arms on Ed’s shoulders. “I  _ am _ a Captain now.” His fingers played in Ed’s hair, free now from the usual confines of his hat. “That is something to celebrate, for certain. Did you have anything in mind?”

“We could drink the wine, reminisce about the past… christen this Cabin.” Ed let his hands slide up over the strong back as Edward pulled him in for a short, but wet kiss.

“That’s an excellent suggestion. Pull up a chair.” The young man untangled himself and turned to pick up a wine bottle, pouring some into the two empty tankards sitting on the desk, while Ed moved a chair around the desk to roughly mirror the placement in his own cabin. He sat down and took the mug offered by the other man, who turned his chair to face Ed before sitting down himself.

They raised their tankards to each other before drinking, and then Edward made a surprised sound into his mug. Red clung to his lips as he raised his head and spoke. “This is just like the wine we had when we…” He trailed off, taking another sip.

Ed smiled and nodded. “Aye, it is. Thought it would be appropriate.

Edward’s wistful smile was back. “That day… all those spices in the air, making my head spin. I was so happy that day, you know.” Ed raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with interest. “Two successful raids, and not that far apart. It’s what I thought privateering would be like. Easy gold. And it wasn’t like that on Dozell’s ship. Not many successes under him at all.”

Edward took another drink and smiled. “I really wanted to celebrate. Not just the successful raid, but that I was right. I could do this. Go to sea, earn a fortune, give my wife the life she deserved. That night I really thought I would be able to keep that promise I made. One year, two at the most.”

Ed couldn’t help it, he barked out a surprised laugh. “Oh, son. You really thought it would be that easy?”

Edward nodded, a self deprecating smile on his lips. “I was a very naive young man when I came up with that plan.” He drained his tankard and stood up, removing his coat and tossing it over a crate. Sitting back down, the young man splayed his legs wide as he casually rolled up his sleeves. 

Ed watched him while emptying his own tankard and set it on the desk. Edward captured him with a heated stare, and Ed felt the blood rushing to his loins. “Go on, Thatch. Show me.”

Ed remembered that night clearly, suspected he always would. Remembered what he had said, what he had done, and most importantly, remember how that  _ beautiful _ , hornery boy had sat across from him, cheeks blazing, lips red and wet from the wine, breaths heavy, and eyes boring holes through Ed’s breeches.

He slid a hand down and cupped himself, massaging his bulge to make it grow, to show off to Edward, to watch the young man grow harder in his own breeches. Edward’s eyes became darker, hardly any blue left visible as he stared and shifted his legs a little wider. Ed let his head roll back for a moment, an open mouth moan escaping his lips, grinding the heel of his hand down harder. He looked at the young man and licked his lips. “You’re not celebrating.”

Edward smired and gripped the armrests on his chair tightly. “I am. I  _ like _ watching you.” He licked his lips too and jerked his head towards Ed. “Open them up. Show me.”

Ed felt a surge of… something welling up inside of him. No one had  _ ever _ looked at him the way Edward did. With that open, unabashed attraction that someone so beautiful as Edward really had no business bestowing on someone like himself. It was heedy and arousing, and loved how enthralled it made the young man, so he opened up his breeches and pulled the swollen member out.

It wasn’t at full mast yet, but it was getting there and Ed gave it a few tugs to help it along. Edward licked his lips again and let out a long breath through his nose. “Come here.” He beckoned with one hand. “Please.”

Ed smired and stayed in his chair, stroking himself slowly. “I thought you wanted to watch?”

Edward’s eyes didn’t waver from Ed’s member as he answered, “I did. Now I want to taste.”, and beckoned with his hand again. Ed relented and stood up, walking the short steps until he stood between the young man’s splayed legs. Edward pushed his hand away and buried his face in Ed’s crotch, inhaling deeply.

The warm air over his skin was replaced with soft lips traveling up his shaft, and then it slid inside, slick, wet tongue undulating against his glands. The soft suction made him grow fully hard and he put a hand on Edward’s cheek, stroking the skin with his thumb.

Usually, the young man went a little harder, pulled Ed deep into his throat, encouraged firm, hard thrusts, but not this time. He was alternating sucking and licking the member, and Ed watched the wet slide between slick lips. “Taste good?”

Edward hummed and gave an awkward nod before pulling away completely to grin and look up at Ed. With strong hands on his hips, the man pushed him a step back and stood up, crowded close and moving closer to capture a deep, licking kiss, arms wrapping around Ed’s neck.

Ed let his hands roam over Edward’s back and buttocks before moving to unfasten his breeches. He felt the hard length against his knuckles as he worked the fastenings and moaned into the kiss. Sliding a hand inside the smalls, he made Edward’s hips buck into his palm and bite at his lips with a growl.

“What do you want,  _ Captain _ ? How do you want to christen your new cabin?” Ed got the words out between sucking, biting kisses and smiled at the slight hitch in the young man’s breath at the word ‘Captain’. 

Edward pulled his lips away, but let his fingers play in the hair at the nape of Ed’s neck. The pink tongue came out to glide over swollen lips, and a red tinge rose onto the high cheekbones. “I want you to take me hard and thorough until we both spill.” Ed grinned and pulled his hand out of the smalls to push the clothes down to the floor, but was stopped by Edward’s hands. “And I want you to pull my britches down  _ just _ far enough to do that.”

He kissed Ed again and let out a breathy sigh. “I’ve been thinking about it the whole trip. Ben was  _ always _ around, I didn’t get a moment’s peace to myself… or to take care of myself. Thought about if you’d been on the ship too, how we’d have to steal quick moments.” Another deep kiss, and Ed felt Edward’s hips grinding into his own. “How we’d have to just pull clothes aside and be quiet and quick.

Ed could easily picture it, remembered being a young sailor sneaking moments, having to be fast and quiet. The sneaking made it better sometimes, the thrill, danger of getting caught. Yeah, he understood what Edward wanted. In a low whisper, he spoke against the stubbly cheek. “Come on, lad. We don’t have much time.”

With his free hand, he turned the young man towards the desk, and with a hand between his shoulder blades pushed for him to bend over. He grabbed the breeches and smalls, pulling at them roughly, exposing the firm, round buttocks and the cleft between them.

Sliding a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a vial of oil and unstoppered it. Pouring some into his hand, he stroked himself, getting himself slick. With the smears of oil on his fingers, he ventured two into the cleft and massaged at the tight rim hiding there, letting his fingertips push and slip inside. He added a little oil directly onto the questing fingers and set the vial down on the desk, his now free hand moving to stroke Edward’s lower back under his shirt.

Pushing one finger inside, he heard the young man’s breath hitch slightly, and followed it quickly with the second finger. A hiss spilled from Edward’s lips and Ed rubbed soothing circles over the smooth back while scissoring his fingers. “This is going to be a little rough. Not enough time for proper preparations.” 

His voice was still the low whisper, as if they were in danger of being overheard, and Edward responded in a breathy, almost whiny whisper. “Yess. Do it. Hurry.”

Ed pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at the oily, slightly loosened entrance. He took a moment to appreciate the view of the round buttocks and the man they belonged to, bent over the desk, eager and beautiful.

Pressing the head of his member into the rim, Ed heard Edward’s breathing immediately grow heavier, and saw his jaw clench. Easing the pressure, but not completely stopping his push, Ed leaned forward and spoke in the same low whisper as before. “You’re in charge here, Captain. You stop me if it’s too much.”

The young man nodded and then shook his head rapidly, speaking in a strangled whisper. “It’s not too much. ‘S good. Give me more. Hurry. Take me.”

Ed increased the pressure and kept pushing until he was all the way inside. Keeping with their game of a hurries, secret tryst, he didn’t stop to let Edward adjust, but pulled all the way out and was resting his glands against the rim. He pushed back inside and leaned forward to growl quietly into the young man’s ear. “Stay quiet now, or they’ll hear us.” Then he gave a firm thrust and heard Edward choke around a groan.

Ed was determined to make this game good, but also to make Edward moan loud enough to be heard, so he set a fast, hard pace, aiming for the boy’s gland with each stroke.

Edward was doing a valiant job of keeping quiet. His clenched jaw and bitten lips only letting muffled moans and groans escape, so Ed leaned forward again and spoke in the husky growl he knew the young man loved. “You’re doing so well keeping quiet, but lad, you feel so good clenching around me. I can’t keep to this kind, gentle pace much longer.”

Edward’s eyes flew open, glancing back at Ed in surprise, presumably because Ed’s pace was anything but gentle. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and a groan spilled out. Ed took that as his cue and gripped the hips in front of him tight, driving his shaft in deep and  _ hard _ . The young man tried to tamper down on his volume for a few strokes, but soon forgot himself and let his moans, groans, and litany of curses rise unchallenged to the ceiling.

Ed let himself revel in the sounds he was pushing out of the beautiful man for a minute, then he pulled them back into the game by clamping a hand over the open, moaning mouth. “Hush, lad, they’ll hear.”

The young man responded with a whine and licked at the palm covering his lips. Ed crooked two oily fingers into the waiting mouth and Edward latched on and sucked on them hard, his moans vibrating up the digits.

Ed felt himself starting to get close and slid his remaining hand from Edward’s hip, down under his body, grasping the hard, leaking member and stroking it firmly in time with his thrusts. The suction around his fingers became impossibly harder, making his thrusts speed up and turn erratic.

Breathing heavy, he growled with each searing thrust as he drove himself hard into the tight, hot passage and felt the walls around his shaft start to clench. Edward stopped sucking and moaned loudly around the fingers in his mouth, so Ed pulled them out and clamped his hand tightly over the young man’s mouth again.

With his hand over slackend lips, Ed hauled Edward up against his chest. His thrusts shortened with the new position, but now he could push his face into the long exposed throat, and take deep breaths of Edward’s musky, sweaty skin.

Edward’s release was splattering onto the desk between Ed’s pumping fingers, and the sight of a milky streak of white landing on the rim of the wine bottle made Ed spill over too. He pushed himself deep inside and let jet after jet shot into the willing body in his arms.

Edward stilled Ed’s hand on his member and pushed it from the sensitive skin while his body jerked with the last few hard thrusts, until Ed slowed down and then stopped. Pulling out, Ed moved them back into the chair, the young man settling in his lap. The beautiful face, flushed with release, turned seeking an exhausted kiss, before letting out a breathy laugh. “That was just as good as I imagined.”

Ed kissed the smiling lips again and then lifted his hand up, wiggling fingers smeared with white. Edward took hold of the proffered hand and licked at the palm, before sucking the fingers clean one by one. 

Reaching out, Ed grabbed the wine bottle and looked at the streaks of white at its opening. He remembered that the last time they had shared this type of thick, rich wine, he could have sworn it tasted better with the pungent scent of release in the air.

Bringing the bottle to his lips, he took a sip, letting it wash the milky pearls into his mouth. The flavour made him hum in appreciation, and he offered the bottle to Edward. The bitter, salty seed cut through the rich, sweet, spicy wine pleasantly. The young man seemed to agree and followed up his first small sip with a longer pull on the bottle.

“So, Captain.” Ed pushed his nose into the blond hair as he spoke. “Are you happy with the christening of your cabin?”

Edward nodded and took another sip of wine. “This is as good as it could get. My own ship, my own crew, my own fierce reputation. Good drink, good release, good company. Yeah, I’m happy.”

Ed pulled the young man a little tighter into his arms and kissed his neck. Edward lifted his head and rubbed his cheek against Ed’s. “You should grow your beard longer. It’d look good. And feel even softer.”

Ed pulled the bottle from Edward and took a drink before leaning in for another kiss. “Is that right? Well then, I might just do that.”

* * *

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have altered canon a little bit here. In the game, Hornigold and Kenway leave right after they do the flag thing, but that’s just because it’s still the tutorial and the game needs to finish teaching you naval combat. In “reality”, it’s unlikely they wouldn’t need and want to stay docked for a while. Repairs, stocking up, selling cargo, shore leave...
> 
> If you skipped chapter 4, and are now wondering what on earth is going on with Kenway and the older woman, you could go to chapter 4, quickly scroll all the way to the bottom so you skip over the nasty parts, and then carefully scroll up until you get to the last divider (line across the page), and then read from there.
> 
> Oh, and apropos nothing, I really hate Hornigold, so it was quite a challenge to write him as the reasonable and supportive friend in this story, and I’m glad I got to add in a little bit of his true colors here at the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, friends, we have come to the end.
> 
> See, the thing about storytelling is that there has to be conflict to drive the plot forward, but we have now run out of conflict for our boys. Their relationship is accepted by their community, and they are out of harm’s way from both Hocking and Bramah.  
> If I were to continue the story I would either have to deviate wildly from canon and invent another Hocking-type antagonist or make the boys fight with each other p, or it would just be gratuitous sex scenes from here on out, until the game plot forces the ultimate heart break, and I always knew I would be stopping this long before it came to that.
> 
> Truth be told, I should have ended this with their reunion in Nassau, but I just really wanted the symmetry of ending it where it began. Two men, attracted to each other, alone and drinking in the Captain’s cabin.
> 
> I want to thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I have.
> 
> I have some excerpts that never made it into this story or into Celebration, because it just didn’t fit with the flow. Eventually I’ll write those up and post them here on AO3. That will just be disjointed excerpts though and no plot, and let’s be honest… mostly gratuitous sex. If there’s something you feel was a missing scene, or something you wonder about how it happened, feel free to leave a comment below, and I’ll add it to my list of potential excerpts.
> 
> Oh, and I am aware that I’ve teased the shit out of Tortuga. I know! I’m sorry. :( But that would just have been nothing but indulgence. You can’t shift a plotty story over to a pwp without it turning bad. I’m sorry.


End file.
